Eye of the storm
by Knight Writer Thundercat
Summary: The war is over, but the story far from told. New loves are found, new challenges accepted, and old enemies make themselves known in the sequel to One Last War to Fight
1. Redemtion's Road

ThunderCats Used Without Permission

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver Used Without Permission

The Eye Of The Storm

Episode One

All was in readiness, he noticed as his personal yacht matched up with the airlock of the Warhammer's main shuttle bay. Ratar-O allowed himself a small smile as his personal craft aligned with the doors, thinking back on how this massive deception of Plun-Darr High Command had begun.

The Rat-Star entered the Warhammer's main hangar without incident. Its automated systems registered the atmosphere and pressure within the shuttlebay before opening the main hatch and releasing its sole occupant.

Ratar-O stood triumphant before the Mutant soldiers which hustled about on his orders in perparing the Warhammer for departure.

_How pathetic_, he thought on looking at them. _Nothing more than raw materials, and none of them has any clue_. Ratar-O stepped onto the Rat-Star's gangway just as another of the Rat Clan dashed forward and snapped to attention.

"COMMANDER ON DECK!" he called, causing other Mutants to snap at attention. He looked down at Meliz, his tight frame highlighted by the solid grey uniform, as the younger Rat stood at attention. At his hips were the Rats Eyes, an heirloom passed to him after discovery of a far more valuable one in the remnants of Thundera.

"As you were!" Ratar-O barked, sending the assembled Mutants back to work. He looked down at his protegee, pleased with how he had kept himself fit and alert. "Meliz," he said on setting foot on the Warhammer, "status."

"Engines are at full capacity, Commander," Meliz said as the two entered the corridor outside the shuttlebay. "Departure will be in one standard hour."

"Excellent." They remained silent as they neared the sliding door of the lift which took them to the deck which housed Ratar-O's private stateroom. The elder cast a glance at the younger's hip and noted the twin sai which rested on them. "Been practicing?"

"Daily, Sir." Meliz replied curtly. He was never one to waste words, a fact for which Ratar-O held in almost as high regard as the younger man's unwavering loyalty. The latter itself was nigh-impossible to find among Mutantkind in general. Given the circumstances in which he'd found Meliz, however, such fealty was understandable. On entrusting him with the Rat's Eyes, his former weapons, Ratar-O had reinforced Meliz's trust in him.

The fact that he'd recently recovered an even better weapon had quite a bit to do with that as well.

Ratar-O's private quarters, in comparison to other such staterooms on other Mutant spacecraft, was luxurious in spite of its spartan decor. The main foyer was spacious if not overly decorated, the furniture consisting of a long plush couch facing a low table with several chairs situated about the floorspace. No art hung on the walls, no sculptures cluttered the available space. Most notably, no viewports were present to give sight to the infinite panorama of stars outside the vessel's hull. A single sliding door along the far right wall gave access to the bedchamber, a lavatory attached to the sleeping area.

Ratar-O flopped down onto the couch, secretly grateful that his lofty rank in Plun-Darr High Command afforded him such simple luxuries. The furnishings in the other quarters of the Warhammer were nowhere near as comfortable. He looked up at Meliz, still standing at rigid attention, and patted the space to his right.

"Sit down," he said. Meliz complied, taking the proffered seat next to his commander. "At ease, my son."

"Thank you, Father," Meliz replied, visibly relaxing. Ratar-O noted the curious glances his adopted son had been furtively shooting to his own hip, at the golden figure of twin snakes intertwined at each end.

"Doesn't look like much, does it?" Ratar-O asked as he grasped the Sword of Plun-Darr and held it aloft. Meliz's keen eyes followed the motion, alight with curiosity and not a trace of avarice. "I plucked this from the shattered corpse of Thundera itself, the only artifact to survive its destruction."

"Is it true that this was my grandfather's sword?"

"His, and his father's before his, and back through antiquity," Ratar-O said, replacing it on his hip, "and now mine. Perhaps one day, it will be yours as well."

"Your sai are enough for me."

"I like the loyalty, but don't let it kill your ambition. Complacency can kill as surely as a knife in the heart."

"Yes, Father."

"Now," Ratar-O began, leaning back into the cushions, "I'm sure you have many questions about this little trek we're making. Likely starting with how this ship even still exists."

"I'd like to know about that, yes," Meliz said back. "I'd thought the Warhammer to be destroyed. I saw the footage of its test flight..."

"And how the FTL drive lost containment and blew the ship into atoms," Ratar-O finished. "Faster Than Light travel's always been a dream of Mutantkind, and I had to make sure it seemed an impossible one. I sabotaged the sensor nets monitoring the Warhammer's maiden flight, and altered the imagery accordingly. Three years it's been in my private shipyard, waiting for this mission."

"I don't understand, Father, why are you betraying High Command?" The question was posed with little emotion, merely bewilderment. "If they knew you'd stolen this prototype..."

"They'd ram a stake up my ass and serve me deep-fried for dinner," Ratar-O said, "_after_ skinning me alive. Meliz, what I'm about to tell you _does not_ leave this room. Understand?"

"Perfectly, Father."

"Son, this act of deception is only the latest in a string of them. I set this plan in motion years ago, after my first visit to Third Earth."

"Where you reported Slythe and his Mutants had died after their ship crashed," Meliz replied. "The report also stated that Third Earth had no minerals or metals critical for Mutant engineering, and the lifeforms unsuitable even for slave labor." Meliz's eyes began to widen in understanding.

"You catch on fast, son. While the local talent on Third Earth isn't even much for slaves, there is Thundrillium aplenty beneath the surface, and Thundrainium abounds as well."

"Which Slythe, who undoubtedly survived, wasted no time in exploiting."

"You give that Reptillian shitkicker too much credit. Slythe wasn't even a decent cook, much less command material."

"He was a _cook_?"

"Hardly. That dimwit burned my eggs every morning." Ratar-O looked at Meliz's confused expression. "My _boiled_ eggs."

"If nothing else, you could have had him poison our enemies' food supply."

"I'd given that some serious thought while trying to digest the atrocities he called food. Either way, you know my mission had been to determine if they had survived, and the reason they'd plotted a course all the way out to the middle of nowhere. What I neglected to report was that the ThunderCats were also on Third Earth."

"Wh-_WHAT?!_"

"Easy, Meliz," Ratar-O said firmly.

"Bu... But that's even higher treason than stealing this ship!"

"And it's that attitude which is eating Plun-Darr alive from within!" Ratar-O roared. Meliz scooted back along the couch, his face betraying only a hint of fear. "Those doddering maggots don't understand. Thundera's gone, our ancient war's over. They're so obsessed with hunting down survivors that they can't see how wasteful they've become. The ThunderCats are old hat, their peasants not even of consequence. They're squandering precious resources, which our homeworld is not overly replete in anymore, in trying to eradicate little knots of survivors. High Command has lost sight of our future, and is wasting the time left to our world."

"Father..."

"If our race is to survive, it has to become united. Whole. We have to put old wars and petty tribal feuds aside if we're to claim the glory of a Mutant-ruled empire."

"Ruled, of course, by you, father."

"History isn't made by the meek," Ratar-O replied, having mostly calmed down after his rant.

"Given all that is true, what could Third Earth possibly have to do with all of this?"

"The million-credit question. Before I tracked down Slythe, I discovered something." Turning away from his adopted progeny, Ratar-O pressed a button situated among several others in a panel set flush with the tabletop. "Computer, voice print analysis," he said to seemingly open air.

"VOICE PRINT ANALYSIS COMPLETE. RATAR-O, COMMANDER, CONFIRMED," the unnecessarily authoritave voice of the main computer responded. "PASSWORD:"

"Mezegis-One-Five-Nine-Zero-Galvayra."

"PASSWORD CONFIRMED. INPUT COMMAND."

"Access ghost drive, data sector Ratar-O One. Display visual." On the wall opposite the couch on which they sat, a two meter by two meter section of its surface glimmered to reveal a hidden monitor. Several icons flickered to life, each representing files Ratar-O had just accessed.

"I never knew about these files," Meliz breathed.

"It's called a ghost drive for a reason, son," Ratar-O replied. "Computer, display data files 01 through 04 and display in order."

The first image still gave Ratar-O a touch of the creeping horrors, yet was outweighed by the potential it represented.

"What the hell is _that_?"

"The future," Ratar-O said, his voice thick. "What will unite Plun-Darr under a single banner."

"Development code MSFT 0038," Meliz read, his eyes flickering back from the garish green text and back to the muscled monstrosity they described, its flesh a more muted shade of the same. "Adoption Number ZN-008j. Name: Gregole. Hyper Muscle Type." The image shifted to a profile, several lines of text changing to report grip, bite pressure, weight, height, all while showing different views of the monster called Gregole.

"The sound files accompanying these images were too corroded to salvage," Ratar-O explained as the next file loaded, that of a purple-furred abomination named Ramotith.

"Vamore..." Meliz gasped at the image of a thin, hairless creature with twin bulging pods on its shoulders. The gruesome slide show ended with a scaled creature called Govilba, its visage that of a gorilla mixed with a crocodile and an extra dash of hideous. The scene shifted to a representation of Third Earth, an island in the northern part of the planet's eastern hemisphere highlighted.

"Before I tracked down Slythe, Monkian, Jackalman, and Vultureman," he explained, "I discovered strange energy readings far below the surface of a ruined city on that island."

"What energy?" Meliz asked, his voice choked with disbelief.

"Nuclear. It seems that once there was an advanced civilization on that mudball. I wasn't able to explore too deeply at the risk of deadly exposure, but I found several ancient computer banks, many with their files and components intact. It was a fit of pique when I had the Rat-Star's computers do a flash download of the contents. After my... altercation... with the ThunderCats, I departed Third Earth and had the rest of the hyperdrive trip to Plun-Darr to examine what I'd found.

"These creatures were made by a clandestine group which called itself Kronos. What you've just seen are bio-weapons."

"Indeed?" Meliz could no longer hide his emotions behind a calm facade.

"Watch this, son," Ratar-O said as he brought up a video file. "Much of this one was corrupted beyond hope, but what I managed to extract showed me plenty." On the monitor appeared a sterile white room. Tiles gleamed from an unseen light source as the image focused an a man in a short smock, his hair in disarray and an expression of sheer terror plastered on his face.

"_What have you bastards done to me?!_" he roared, a voice from the distant past.

"Test of prototype zoanoid designate: Malmott. Kronos Research and Development, London Branch," said a calm disembodied voice in strangely accented Standard. "March Twelfth, 1990."

"_Let me outta here!_"

"The test subject seems to exhibit the same oddities as the prototype originally developed by the Japanese Branch, under the direction of Genzo Makashima. Most notably, a resistance to mental conditioning used to maintain sanity during the optimization process."

"_FUCK YOU, YOU SONSABITCHES!_"

"Triggering the shift into zoaform is unduly tied to emotional state, as seen."

"Motherfucker..." Meliz gasped as it began. Black fangs snaked out of the human's mouth as the flesh stripped away from the rapidly growing skull. The form increased easily three times in size, shredding the thin gown as what looked to be bare muscle tissue bulged and writhed beneath scant scraps of fur. The piteous, malformed creature began to hammer at the walls, leaving gaping holes which rained pulverized material as Malmott raged uncontrollably. Without warning, one of the zoanoids viewed in the still files charged in and grasped Malmott's skull in one massive green hand and in the same motion smashed its head against the wall amid a massive splash of blood. The Gregole repeated the motion twice more, leaving Malmott to tumble to the floor where it immediately began to dissolve.

"Fuck me _running_," Meliz said at length as the recording froze and the screen went black. Ratar-O did not reply, not mentioning that humans were the base materials for those zoanoids. "I can see why you falsified your report on Third Earth."

"I couldn't afford for High Command to learn about the ThunderCats living on the surface," Ratar-O said in response. "They would have blazed a trail to that world, and any chance to learn the secrets buried there would have vanished like a Simian around hard work."

"Old hat, you said." Meliz was still somewhat overawed, but was recovering quickly.

"I wouldn't be moving just now if Slythe hadn't forced my hand," he snarled. "I received a report from one of my spies among a marauder group headed by a devious son of a whore named Primor that they'd received a transmission from the Reptillian and altered course to Third Earth."

"We have to find more of these Kronos ruins before they do," Meliz interrupted, his calm fully restored.

"Only I know of them, but we can't let Primor stumble over any that are still hidden. He's far from a brilliant mind in disciplines that don't involve beating slaves and blowing things up, and he'd likely destroy anything he found. Once we pick up the Spy-Star I dispatched ahead of us, we'll have a better image of what's happening on the ground."

"Commander Ratar-O," came the snivelling tone of a Scavenger, "you're needed on the main bridge, sir."

"On my way!" he barked, dropping the familiar tone he used only with Meliz. His son bolted upright, once more the professional soldier. They left his stateroom, once more commander and lieutenant rather than father and adopted son.

The open air all around was something Oswald Arthur Lisker had had more than enough of as he carried Maria in his arms above the forests and grasslands of Third Earth for the second straight week. He'd known that finding any sort of habitation by flying around at random over lands neither had seen before was a slim hope at best, and sleeping under the stars or in handy caves was beginning to wear on them both. He hadn't thought ahead enough to secure camping gear before setting his plan in motion and blowing Fortress Plun-Darr straight to hell. Maria, much to her credit, never complained and kept saying that love would see them through.

_At this point, a freakin' miracle would help,_ he thought. The two of them had passed over empty land where cities had once been, seeking in vain for something approaching a viable place to start any kind of life. As they'd crossed into Canada, or what passed for it now, he'd searched for Quebec and found nothing but trees and more trees. Mother Nature had retaken the world with a vengeance. _No cities anywhere..._

Their course over the past three days had turned southward toward hopefully warmer climes and Lisker had no real clue over which former state he was currently ferrying Maria. Montana, maybe, or Wyoming. The land was flat, and...

_Is that...?_ He peered into the distance at the slight discoloration on the horizon and focused both sensor medals aside his helmet forward.

"Find anything?" Maria asked, looking up at his faceplate.

"Maybe. I've definitely spotted some biosigns, but we're too far away to tell how many."

"Only one way to find out!" she chirped, a genuine smile on her face. Lisker increased speed, rocketing toward the grouping of vital signatures. Despite his enhanced senses, it was Maria who pointed out the wide road beneath them after having covered a few miles. Lisker glanced downward and altered trajectory to follow the hard-packed path. It was far too wide to be mistaken for a game trail, too obvious to be anything but a main thoroughfare. Sans pavement, of course.

_Thousands of miles of highway, all gone,_ Lisker thought. "Ozymandias, anyone?"

"Huh?"

"'I am the Great Ozymandias. Look upon my works ye mighty and tremble.' That's the quote. His empire ended up nothing but ruins and sand, and that quote."

"It's still so hard to believe," Maria said, "that all this was once a great nation. Cities everywhere, towers that reached the sky! I can't imagine it!"

"Nations everywhere. Planes, trains, and automobiles. All lost to history." _My history..._ "Yeah, we've just found one!" His tone went from somber to excited as he picked out straight lines and the biosigns became clearer. Humans, and quite a few of them mixed in with others he'd spotted in other hamlets. Bolkins, and some Tabbots as well. This wasn't some shantytown for the sheep people or gaudy display of wealth like homes for the pig-like Tabbots. Lisker went higher, the better to observe unseen, and noted that four identical roadways extended from the town like the points on a compass rose. Intersecting the eastern route was a fast flowing river, alongside which were wooden wheels being turned by the current.

"Mills," Maria said, squinting down, "I think. This must be a major city, indeed!"

_Major in the eighteenth century, maybe,_ Lisker had the tact not to say.

"Why are we passing over?" she asked when he resumed course.

"We can't just set down in front of Town Hall," he replied. "I'll take us a short distance away, and we'll walk in. No sense in scaring the locals."

"Good point... I see a house over there!" She pointed at the speck of a structure in the distance, set back from the main road and connected by a narrow path. Lisker focused his medals and found the space to be uninhabited.

"No one's home," he said as he banked toward it. "Good a place as any to hit the dirt."

The grass reached his knees on touching down, the square domicile in the center of the shabby space silent and dark. He set Maria down, said grasses nearly reaching her thighs, and set forward.

"Looks like no one's been home for a while, now," she said as they reached the steps to the covered front porch.

"The house is still in good shape," Lisker said before testing the door. The wooden barricade swung easily in on its hinges. Their steps seemed to echo in the cozy interior, straight backed chairs surrounding what had to be a dinner table in the center with a small kitchen at the back. Three doors were set into the walls, Two leading to bedchambers and one to a bathing room.

_No toilets,_ he silently groused. _Even the ROMANS had indoor plumbing, for Pete's sake!_ "Doesn't look ransacked," he said as he ran a finger along the surface of an empty shelf and inspected the dust on its armored tip. "Whoever lived here opted to cut and run. From what?"

"Maybe they'll come back?" Maria said halfheartedly, as though she already knew it wouldn't happen.

"Doubt it," he said simply, opening one of the doors to reveal a master bedroom. The bedding was still in order, though dusty from neglect, yet the chest of drawers stood with each one open and empty. Maria padded to the closet and found some clothes scattered on the floor. "Took what they could carry and hightailed it."

"I can tell you that humans lived here," Maria said, pointing to a box atop the high shelf of the closet. "Everything's sized for them." Curious, Lisker stepped over to her and plucked the box from the shelf.

"Yeah, they were in a panic," he said as he pulled a pendant carved of diamond set in pure gold and dangled it before Maria. Her eyes nearly popped from their sockets at the sight of such a valuable piece of jewelry. "Place hasn't been searched, that's for sure. If theives had come through here, this would have a big 'Steal Me' sign on it." He looked over at Maria. "You want?"

"It's not yours to give to me," she said, frowning. "Even if I'd _love_ to have it."

"Good point," he replied, placing the pendant back in the box and depositing it on the shelf again. "Still, might want to think about taking it for barter in town."

"Lisker?"

"Look, whoever lived here left it, and they're not coming back for it. We're on our own for now, and we have to be practical."

"I still do not like it." Her tone was disapproving, but her eyes showed that she saw the truth of it.

"I bet they took all the food they could. Wonder if they left anything?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask," she said, visibly brightening. "I have a hunch."

"Lead on, pretty lady," he said and was warmed by her smile. He made sure to say such platitudes from time to time, as he had to other women. Only with Maria, they were more than words. He truly meant them, and that still frightened him on some deep level. He followed her into the kitchen, scanning the stove and cupboards with his enhanced vision and finding them as cold and empty as the house. Utensils were still in their places within the drawers beneath the prep counter, and knives of various shapes hung as though still waiting to be used. Maria darted to the right and Lisker saw the door set into the floor.

"Just like a Wollo kitchen," Maria said, triumphant. "Humans learned this trick from _us_."

"Why keep the root cellar outside when you can get in from the kitchen," Lisker replied. "Kinda sucks if a tornado drops the house over the door." He shook his head at that before Maria pried open the door and descended the wooden stairs.

Lisker had to duck down to keep the curving fin on his helmet from digging furrows into the ceiling. Despite the lack of light, he saw clearly that the shelves were lined with a myriad of jars and wrapped parcels which would have set his mouth to watering had the Guyver allowed such a waste of his body's moisture. Though he could not feel the ambient air temperature, he still knew that it was nice and cool down here. Maria located a stub of candle along with some flint, which she used to spark the wick to life.

"Oh. I changed my mind, it _is_ pretty clever," Lisker said once he noticed the set of double doors which granted access to the outside.

"Fruit preserves," Maria said, absorbed in her inventory of the cellar's contents. "Pickled vegetables, cured meats, grains," she went on, checking jars, urns, packages and pots. "It's all still good. We have a stockpile in here!"

"Winter's on its way fast," Lisker agreed. "Looks like this might become home for awhile."

"That bed did look awful soft," Maria lilted, throwing a wink over her shoulder at him. Lisker laughed out loud as they exited the cellar and searched another room. Maria did a double take at the bolts of cloth which were scattered about the floor and the needle kit which lay open on a sewing table.

"You look pleased," Lisker said around a chuckle as Maria hurriedly sorted through the available fabrics. They were mostly cloth and cotton, yet among them was a roll of silk which Maria darted to like a honeybee searching nectar.

"Oh, I am!" she hooted. "I can make some clothes!"

"You know how?"

"Of _course_ I know how!" she replied, somewhat indignant. "In Wollo villages, everyone pitches in. The only Wollos who don't know how to make garments are those still in swaddling clothes."

"Even men know how?"

"Well, men lean more toward leatherworking, but yes. We don't have those clothing stores you told me about."

"Good point and well made," Lisker conceeded.

"Speaking of garments, I think you can remove yours now."

"Oh. Yeah. Hadn't thought about that." Having spent so much time bio-boosted, he'd begun to lose track of the time he spent in his transformed state. The armor left at his command, fading back into wherever it called home, and the slight chill in the air set small teeth in his exposed flesh.

"I can see that you need new clothes, too," Maria clucked as she gathered the scattered sewing instruments. "Those pants and that shirt have seen better days."

"So's your jacket," he pointed out playfully.

"Don't you worry, I have something special in mind for this," she said, giving a twirl that exposed tantalizing lengths of her legs.

"Still," Lisker said, dark clouds appearing over his horizon, "I have to wonder why the people who lived here bolted. They ran from something."

"Maybe the people in that town can tell you?"

"You're not coming with me?"

"Lisker," Maria said as if to a slow child, "look at what I'm wearing. This is fine between us, but if I'm to go into a public place, I'd like to wear something more..." She gesticulated with her hands for a moment before he supplied a term.

"Modest."

"That will do. Yes, something more modest."

"So, I'll make this trip alone. It's only a couple miles to town."

"You can walk that, I take it?"

"Maria, I could run that with fifty pounds of combat gear on my back."

"You know you don't have to impress me."

"Not trying. Remember what I told you about being a Marine?"

"Yes."

"I had to make longer runs than that. With all that gear on me. _Before_ breakfast."

"Oh," she said simply. "Will you take that necklace for barter?"

"No. The people in town might know who lived here. We don't want unnecessary questions. My Rolex might net us anything we need. Not that we need much with this setup."

"Be careful, my heart," she said, her eyes turning soulful.

"I will, no worries. Just lock the door behind me, and don't open it for anyone." With that, Lisker bent down to plant a chaste kiss on Maria's lips before turning toward the door.

Despite the fact that his patent leather shoes had not been made for this kind of beating, Lisker revelled in the feel of his feet pounding terra firma in a constant and steady rhythm. He hadn't run in such a manner in years, far more than he cared to consider, and had managed to resist calling out his old unit's cadence while doing so. Inwardly, however, was a different story.

_(I don't know, but I've been told!)_

_ (Eskimo girls're mighty cold!)_

_ (Sound off!)_

_ (One, two!)_

Lisker did not fret about the run, having made left turns in Paris that were far more difficult than a two mile run in Italian loafers. His muscles tingled with the exertion, his senses still hyperaware despite the absence of the Guyver. Out of instinct born of battles fought in far more forbidding territory, he scanned every rock and tree as he approached the still unnamed town. Though he lacked an AR-15 carbine, or even a Ka-bar combat knife, he knew his body was all the weapon he would need. He sincerely doubted the training given to Marines still survived on Third Earth.

Lisker knew something was wrong as he drew closer to the outer wall of the town. The guards seemed disinterested, as though a random stranger nearing the open gates did not warrant so much as a shouted command to halt. They cast poisonous looks at him as he entered, yet did nothing to challenge his approach as he slowed to a walk. He noted the scorch marks lined with jagged cracks near the entryway, the inlaid wood having been obviously replaced recently.

_What the hell is this?_ he thought as he walked the cobblestoned streets of the unnamed settlement he'd spotted earlier. From above it had appeared to be as close to industial revolution-era technology he'd seen since being revived on Third Earth. The walls were dirty, the streets desolate and scattered with leaves obviously blown in from the forests which ringed two sides of the town. As he progressed past what looked to be closed shops whose windows were boarded over and people who walked with slumped backs and whose eyes were pools of sorrow, resignation, and smoldering yet impotent anger, he half expected some street urchin to rush up and offer to shine his shoes for a nickel. _Depression era Detroit, Third Earth style,_ was what crossed his mind as well as the realization that he wouldn't get so much as a "Screw you, Asshole," out of the people he passed. Some of them, though a remarkable few, chanced looks at his left hand and shook their heads. Lisker continued to explore the serpentine streets in search of any likely source of information and was considering writing the exercise off as a lost cause when to his right a door into a shop that still did business opened and one of the sheep people emerged.

The Bolkin's head snapped to his face, mistrust and suspicion clear in his eyes before the stare locked onto his left hand. Nearing the point of exasperation, Lisker offered the back of his hand for closer inspection and managed not to do so upside the Bolkin's head.

"Not one of them, then?" he asked, his suspicious gaze back on Lisker's face. "Or, just don't have the mark yet?"

"Not one of them?" The Bolkin still eying him warily, Lisker spread his hands in a placating gesture. "Would you mind making some sense?"

"You've got to know who I'm talking about."

"Skull and Bones?" he tried, becoming seriously irritated and wishing Maria had come along to at least keep him calm. "Illuminatti? Hare Krishnas? Neighborhood Watch? Friendly Geico Representatives?"

"Now you're the one not making sense," the Bolkin said, shaking his head, "but I'm starting to think maybe you're really not one of the Clutch."

"The Clutch," Lisker repeated, relieved that some progress was finally being made. _As in the third pedal in a stickshift?_

"Come in," the Bolkin said abruptly before turning about and re-entering his shop.

The shop, it turned out, was on the first floor with the Bolkin's chambers on the second. It also turned out to be a leather shop, coats and boots that looked comfortable yet tough as nails. The smell was everywhere, tanning fluids and finished rawhide that was oppressive at first. The Bolkin moved through two rows of chairs, indicating that Lisker should take one. He sat, wondering just what he was in for as his host silently started choosing footwear.

"Those shoes of yours are well-made," the sheep man said, "but aren't made for travelling, and you'll want to do that soon as you can."

"Mind telling me why?"

"I don't know how you got past 'em, but you'd best retrace your route."

"The Clutch?"

"That's it, just the thing. What, you drop outta the clear blue sky?"

"Who're these Clutch people?"

"So long as you don't meet 'em, you're better off."

"They the reason this town's such a shithole?" The Bolkin whirled on him, clearly offended yet the anger faded quickly. "Look, I'm new here and I just want some information. What in the _fuck_ are you talking about with these Clutch people?"

"Watershed used to be a trading town, and a pretty big one I'm sure you can tell," the Bolkin replied as he put down a pair of stiff-looking boots in favor of some that seemed softer. "Before they came here."

"All I saw were people who looked like they wanted to kick my ass. Guess I came here unperpared." _Here I thought I was done with high school..._ he thought ironically.

"They only came to town once." The Bolkin decided against the current boots and began hunting for another. "Used to be, shops would get consingments of goods delivered here, the more permanent ones that is. Traders and merchants would come through right regular, buying and selling their wares and trading for what they needed to keep travelling. Ground our own grains and sold 'em, got other foodstuffs from traders an' such. Whole damn town was like a business, real center of commerce. 'All roads lead to Watershed' we

used to say." The Bolkin selected a pair of boots which Lisker saw to be his exact size. The Bolkin's customers must have been mostly humans. "Not so much now."

"Looks like they'll be a good fit," Lisker said amiably, already regretting having landed near Watershed as he doffed his loafers and donned a pair of the most comfortable boots his feet had ever inhabited. "I can trade for them."

"On me," his host said. "No point in keeping what they'll take anyway."

"How're they taking everything if they've only been here once?" Lisker asked as he began to scan for a pair of boots that would fit Maria.

"Mayor Gil started getting word that shipments were being stopped, both ways," the Bolkin explained, sitting in the chair directly across from Lisker. His feet dangled nearly a foot from the floor, a pair of his own boots adorning them. "Traders and such being stopped and robbed. Then, they started getting killed."

"Rough."

"Yeah. Before Gil could round up some guards to check it out, they hit us. Hard. Humans and Trollogs both stormed us in the dead of night, started killing anyone they came across. Thing is, all that was a distraction."

"What did they really want?"

"Mayor Gil's boy, William."

"Oh." Lisker found himself despairing for that William's chances of still being alive.

"Next morning, all he found on his boy's bed was a lock of hair and a list of things the Clutch wanted first. Gold and jewels first. Then food, weapons, raw materials."

"Gil caved," Lisker said simply.

"Had no choice. Said the next raid would take even more kids. Folks were scared for their families. Better to keep other kids safe and let everything get taken. Said they'd give Will back once they were done."

"Tell me this Gil didn't believe that," Lisker nearly groaned.

"Man gets his boy took, he'll cling to any hope. Must not be a family man, Mister..."

"Lisker."

"Mister Lisker. Name's Dendel, by the way." Lisker took the offered, and far smaller, hand. "Damn good grip you got there. Saw you lookin' around. Anything in particular?"

"Boots for a woman. Those might do," Lisker replied, pointing to a pair on a shelf along the far wall behind Dendel.

"Small woman," he said noncommitally. Lisker said nothing as Dendel hopped down from the chair and moved to retrieve the boots. Silently, he reviewed the information he'd uncovered from a most unconventional source, and found himself in a potential quagmire. A whole town getting the life choked out of it by a bunch of bandits and kidnappers. Thugs, to put it more simply. He blew a frustrated breath through his nostrils, already knowing that he and Maria could not establish a life here. No way.

_I could help,_ he thought and dismissed it straightaway. He recalled the famous quote of Andy Warhol, who he never considered any real artist, that everyone would have fifteen minutes of fame. He'd had his two weeks and a whole slew of miles away from Watershed, and wanted a quiet place in which he could train for his promised rematch with Sho Fukamachi.

_What would Maria think about that?_ piped up his concsience, which he squelched. His hero days were over. His life now consisted of protecting Maria and preparing to face Guyver One.

_Sure it is,_ that selfsame part of him replied in her voice.

"Just her size," Lisker said once Dendel handed the soft leathers to him. "Can't just take these for free. I'll leave the loafers here. Sorry if they stink like ass."

"I've repaired more than my share of smelly shoes," Dendel said, "and I'll take them if you insist. The leather is quite exquisite."

"Good. I won't take up more of you time." Lisker rose and made for the door to the street.

"Godspeed, Mister Lisker. Get out of this pit as fast as you can."

_I intend to,_ he did not say as he shut the door.

Maria looked down at herself for the tenth time, studying her figure beneath the length of cotton she had tied into a form-fitting wrap whose folds enclosed her snugly with a knot at her right shoulder. It was far more form-fitting than her jacket, which adorned a chair near the bolt of silk she had scouted out. She had very special plans for that material which, she was sure, would blow Lisker's mind once she was done. For now, as she hummed an old tune to herself, the modest dress she was now hemming took all her attention as she guided the needle through the seam. The dress would reach her ankles, which suited her just fine. The more risque garment she intended would be for Lisker alone.

She hummed in bliss as her fingers manipulated the needle and thread, unconcerned about her nearly nude state. There was no one around to spy on her, she knew, and making more conventional clothing brought her a certain comfort. She had made dresses and blouses numerous times when she lived with the other Wollos of her village and this time was no different. She already had Lisker's measurements, and making more clothing for him would take little effort.

The three knocks at the front door caused her to bolt upright and charge the main entrance. Lisker stood beyond, and his tension killed her easy mood.

"Thank you," she said as he gave her the boots. "I was getting tired of going around barefoot."

"We have to leave," he said simply. "Now."

"What?!"

"I screwed up. There's bad things going on here. We can't stay."

"Lisker," she said, grasping his hands and spinning him around to face her. "What is going on here?" She listened as he explained the situation in Watershed with the Clutch, and Maria could not believe what she was hearing.

"You must be joking," she said firmly. "We can't leave!"

"Maria, we have to get going! Get a move on!" he exclaimed as he snatched open the trap door to the cellar.

"This is _not_ the way it will be!" she shouted, drawing Lisker's gaze. "Lisker, these people are living a nightmare!"

"Not our place..."

"It _is_ our place!" Maria shouted. "You can stop this!"

"Maria," Lisker began, "I'm not a superhero. I can't save the world..."

"As I recall, you've saved the world once already," she said, stepping toward him and placing his hands in hers. "If you hadn't helped stop the Mutants, this world would be under their thumb right now!" Her heart began to beat furiously in her breast, heat spreading through her body. "Lisker, this is no different!"

"It is..."

"No, it is _not_! Lisker, I remember our first night together after you helped eradicate the Mutant Army. You said we were a team, that you'd fight for me."

"For you, not for people we don't know!"

"Oh, so you raise your voice when I don't agree with you? Lisker, you said we could have a life here! If we pick up and move on each time we find a bad situation, what does that make us? We can't keep moving on!"

"Maria..."

"Don't 'Maria' me!" she exclaimed, now furious. "Power comes with responsibility! You have power! Why not use it for the people of Watershed?!"

"I..." Lisker fell silent at that, his eyes closing and his thoughts turning inward. Maria waited with short breath, hoping her man would make the right choice. "Some day," he began, "you've got to tell me how you can talk me into things." She relaxed at those words, moving closer to embrace him. The man she'd fallen for was still there, the goodness she'd seen in him still a beacon in his darkness. Still torn, but not so much as before.

"I'm a woman," she replied simply, smiling gently.

"Oddly enough, that makes perfect sense," Lisker said with a smile of his own. His hand softly cupped her cheek and turned her gaze to his. "I might have saved the world once, but I can clean up this little corner of it. But," he said, his face becoming serious, "I'm not doing this for the people of Watershed. I'm doing this for you."

"That's enough for me," Maria replied, truly meaning it. "You're still doing the right thing. It seems we now know what whoever lived here ran from. Let's make sure no one else has to run from them again." She grasped his shirt by the collar, slowly pulling him down and kissing him as deeply as she could. After what felt like half an era, they parted and gazed into each other. "Consider that for good luck. Now, how about we get some dinner? You can't stave off the forces of evil on an empty stomach, Guyver or no Guyver."

Lisker sat at the table which took up the center space of the foyer, still trying to figure out what the hell had just happened as Maria emerged from the root cellar with a jar of preserves under one arm and a small vat of pickles in the other.

"Want some help?" he asked as she set them on the prep counter. He couldn't help but let his eyes linger on her shapely form beneath the simple wrap she wore. Did she know what that sight did to him? _Probably,_ he answered himself.

"Nothing to it," she replied. "I don't have time to make a proper meal, but this should do for tonight. I don't know how to prepare meats, I'm afraid." The righteous indignation which had permeated her earlier shouted words was gone, the storm having blown over.

"Comes with being an herbivore. If we have to use the meats stored down there, I can manage cooking them."

"You don't want any?" she asked, looking up at him from across the room. "I thought humans loved to eat meat."

"True enough, but I can go without. Steak-'n-potatoes was never a staple for me." Lisker sat there, chin resting in his hand and watching her as she bustled about with a nameless tune coming from her lips as he pondered next how he would go about ridding Watershed and, more importantly, themselves of the unknown punks which called themselves the Clutch.

_Dumbest fuckin' name for a gang I've ever heard..._

"They have to have people at points where the roads out of here get narrow," he said, mostly to himself. "Going by what Dendel said, they've had this town closed off for months."

"The thing with Bolkins," Maria said as she placed a plate of pickled cucumbers and a bowl of raspberry preserves on the table, "is that they're even less talented liars than Wollos. That particular gift passed our two races by. Did he tell you where to find the Clutch?"

"No, but I'm thinking they're using the forests either north or west of here as a staging area. No places to hide to the east and south. Small garrisons down those roads to keep them closed, shipments of conscripted goods going in one of the other two directions. I didn't look for side roads or trails on our flyover, but there's gotta be some for moving stuff they jacked from traders they killed."

"How will you find them?" Maria asked after swallowing a bite of cuke.

"I can see plenty when I'm transformed. I should be able to fill in the blanks when I set out tonight."

"Tonight?" Maria blinked hard, fork halfway between mouth and plate.

"I took this mission, best to have done with it as soon as possible. No sense in putting it off." Lisker took Maria's unoccupied hand in his and began to stroke the back of it with his thumb. "Listen, Maria, no one can know about the Guyver. I don't need any praise, I don't want people beating a path to our door every time a cat gets stuck in a tree. If we're gonna make a life here, we can't have everyone dumping their problems on us to solve."

"I understand," she said to him, and he knew she did. "We have to have time for ourselves, too."

"If we're gonna call this place home, then the Clutch has gotta go. We've also gotta come up with a cover story about us living together."

"That might be tricky," she said at length. "Our relationship is taboo mostly among Wollokind. Did you see any in town, by the way?"

"Far as I know, you're the only Wollo around here."

"That simplifies things," Maria replied, "but not in a good way."

"I remember you telling me that when Wollos are with humans, it's not usually by choice."

"If we tell people I'm your slave, they'll readily believe it, but I don't want to live that kind of a lie. We had to at Fortress Plun-Darr, but that's over and done with now."

"If we tell people the truth, they won't believe it. How about we just not advertise, and tell anyone who asks that it's none of their damn business?" he asked with a smirk and a wink. Maria gave a lilting laugh at those words.

"I think I can manage that."

The rest of the meal passed quickly and silently, the food surprisingly good even given the fact that they'd subsisted on foraged herbs and berries for two weeks, and before that had to choke down on the garbage that Mutants found edible. _If hunger makes the best sauce,_ Lisker mused, _then crappy food comes a close second._

"Still plenty of daylight left," he said as he looked out the window which gave a view of the road beyond the front door. Maria, having risen from her chair, eased in front of him and into his lap.

"I still have work to do on new clothes," she said absently before making herself comfortable, showing no intention of getting back to sewing. "I could teach you how."

"I'd like to know how you managed this wraparound job," he said, tugging gently at the knot on her shoulder. "It's great on you." _Really great._

Maria felt his warm breath on her hair as she relaxed into him. She had never loved him more than she did at that moment, knowing that he would do what was right in the end. Even if it took some not-so-gentle prodding in the proper direction. She knew she had a great deal of work ahead of her, both in making this house a home and in making some decent clothing from the rolls of fabric in the room to her left, but sitting there with his arms around her made all that distant and unimportant.

"It's been awhile," she said softly. "For us, I mean."

"I know," Lisker said as he lifted her against him. "You sure?"

"If you don't make a beeline for that bed," she said with a grin, "I'll drag you."

The rest of the daylight passed by unnoticed by either of them.

Dendel, as he did every night for the past several months, found himself thinking about the bustling place Watershed once was before the Clutch came and cut them off from the rest of Third Earth. It hadn't even been difficult, once they'd sealed the roads and kidnapped Mayor Gil's son.

_The Cambers,_ he thought as he crested the roof of the two story structure which was both his shop and his home and also the tallest of the myraid buildings in the immediate area. _The told us it was coming, and they didn't make it._ He still remembered the day their heads, man wife and young child, had been found by the bank of the river. It was on that day that Watershed's misfortunes truly began. Watershed was circling the drain just as the other towns they'd choked off and drained before them.

Dendel thought briefly about his only customer for the day, that strange human who'd called himself Lisker. Good taste in boots, that one, and a man not to be trifled with. Dendel had seen that easily in his ice-chip eyes. Lisker was a man who was no stranger to conflict, and was also supremely confident in his own abilities.

_I just hope he got out... What the hell?_ Dendel, on spotting the tiny light in the distance, brought his telescope to bear on the source of illumination. While gazing at the stars through it helped bring him peace even in such troubled times, it also helped in spotting caravans coming through at irregular houres. Such had helped prevent raids in the past, before the overwhelming presence of the Clutch had come calling.

_That's odd,_ he thought on seeing the tiny pinprick of light in the distance. Dendel brought the telescope to bear, finding the Camber house itself in his gaze with a single light blazing in the front windows which faced the main east-west road. He kept his gaze on the front porch as the door opened and a familiar human stepped through.

_How about this?_ he mused as he watched Lisker step into the night. Another figure emerged behind him, nude except for the boots the human had procured for her. The Wollo woman said something to him which caused Lisker to smile and place a kiss on her lips.

_Not a slave,_ he thought as he beheld the increasingly strange tableaux. _She broke the Taboo, then._ Dendel had to admit that the Wollo was lovely though rather tall for her kind. He watched, focusing the telescope on Lisker, as the human darted into the yard of the former Camber place and shouted something he couldn't hear.

The result was immediate, the sphere of energy hammering the dirt around him as golden armor appeared from the ether to seemingly bond with him. The spectacle was over as abruptly as it began, leaving a golden-armored figure standing beneath the light of the nearly full moon.

Dumbfounded, Dendel tried to track Lisker as he shot into the sky as though the Law of Gravity was only the Mild Suggestion of Gravity before vanishing into the night.

_How bizarre!_ he thought as Lisker vanished from view and he trained his telescope back upon the Wollo. She disappeared back into the former Camber house and closed the door, obviously locking it. Dendel resolved to another all-nighter, this time hoping for something more interesting than shooting stars and constellations.

Maria made for the bathroom, having already drawn water from the hand pump which dominated the center of the otherwise clear space. The house's well was there, the rest of the house having been built around it for easy retrieval of water. A mirror dominated the wall near the door above a plain counter, the only furnishings other than the metal tub above an empty hollow for a small fire and a chamberpot in the far corner. She tested the water above the embers and, on finding the temperature acceptable, lowered her bare body into the warm water.

"Aaahhhhh..." she moaned as for the first time in weeks she was able to clean herself. The water felt exquisite over her, already bringing out the ground-in filth which had embedded itself in her downy fur. Her muscles still tingled from the multiple climaxes Lisker had brought her to earlier that day, and the heat of the water only served to relax her more despite what he had set out to do just a few moments earlier.

_No need to worry,_ she thought as she dipped lower into the water to wash her face. There was little on Third Earth which could harm him, she knew, but that did not stop her from worrying about him all the same. The Clutch, and _that_ was a rather strange name for any group, may have proven too much for the people of Watershed, but they were still humans and Trollogs. There was no way they could be prepared for Lisker. For a Guyver. As such, Maria's mind went adrift as she leaned back against the head of the tub and let the water do it's wonderful work.

She found herself thinking of Laheela and the last time she'd seen the Thunderian woman on the bridge of the Ravager. In spite of the fact that the two would likely never meet again, Maria took satisfaction from Laheela having said that she now trusted Lisker, just before laying a smacker on her that she hadn't seen coming. Maria wondered what Laheela was doing at that moment, freed alongside her people.

_Mother,_ she thought, her mind taking a more painful turn. The disappointment in her parents' eyes as she faced them still caused a deep ache in her heart. She had chosen Lisker over them, not over Ramon, and had vanished from their lives forever.

_I still chose,_ she thought then, pushing them out of her mind. _I made that choice, and I will never regret it._ At the very least, the choice had been given to her rather than made for her. Since girlhood, every decision had been made by others. What to wear. How to behave. What was considered proper and improper for a female in Wollo society. _Who to marry..._ Maria now had those choices to make for herself. She thought of the dress she had nearly completed and her smile grew a touch naughty. Who said it had to reach her ankles?

Realms of possibilities lay before her as she closed her eyes in light slumber.

During his tour as a Marine, Lisker had often followed orders based on incomplete intel and educated guesswork. CIA, NSA, Military Intelligence, their secretive natures had often delivered flawed estimates of enemy strength and location. Though he had no such backup here on Third Earth, his own quick recon had confirmed many of his suppositions. As he'd floated above the house which, like it or not, would be home for at least the winter months, he'd focused the sensor medals and his own heightened eyesight on the forest ares he'd guessed the Clutch to be hiding in. Several signs of human and demi-human life had leapt out at him, surrounding a single thermal bloom that had to be a good-sized campfire in the more northerly section of the wood. Situated at narrow points along the four roads had been smaller bands of people guarding the choke points.

_So far, so good,_ he thought as he silently hovered above the northern squad. He'd taken the west, east, and south first, given their greater distance from the enemy's base camp. Here, however, they were less than a mile away from a force of fifteen more. Nothing he could not handle, but Lisker wanted this to be a subtle as possible, to leave as many unanswerable questions regarding Guyver as he could. Leaving a good tract of forest burnt to a crisp with the megasmasher was just wasteful and, he knew, would immolate the stored spoils the Clutch had taken over the months. Given what he'd seen and what Dendel told him, having as much as possible returned would do rather a lot of good. Though he still gave little thought to the people of Watershed, and still held Maria as the reason why he was doing his Bat-Man routine, he wasn't completely inconsiderate of their needs.

_They're not bad at the old guard routine,_ he grudgingly admitted as he beheld the two humans and two Trollogs on each side of the road. They stood loose and ready, but close together. Firearms, apparently, hadn't been rediscovered by the locals yet so presenting a mass target could be excused. They were also far more alert than their now-dead colleagues at the other choke points, due to being closer to base and whoever was in charge. Such attentiveness did not aid them as four quick bursts from the head beam felled them in such short order that none of them had the chance to make a sound before crumpling to the dirt.

_Clear the roads. Phase one successful,_ he thought as he rose above the trees once again. _Proceeding to main mission objective._ He moved towad the glow of the fire and nearly laughed out loud at the audacity of the gathered Clutch. Like the others, the humans all had tattoos of a grasping talon on their left hands which explained why so many had given his a good look and somewhat explained their name. A nagging suspicion began to claw at his mind, the feeling that something was just plain hinky as hell but he couldn't grasp what.

Bright as the large campfire was, and given the fact that they looked into it off an on, Lisker knew their night vision was completely shot. He could hover there all night and none of them would be the wiser. He gazed to his right to where a long flat wagon was laden with parcels and bundles of stolen food and goods. Two large horses, the first he'd seen on Third Earth, were hitched to the wagon and stood in place without a care in the world. To the wagon's immediate left was a cage made of black iron bars.

_Complication number one,_ he thought as he identified the wretched-looking boy in ruined nightclothes. His blond hair hung matted and tangled, smudges and filth discoloring his pale skin. William sat within the cage, staring down to a point between his feet. Lisker took a closer look and saw that he was far skinnier than was healthy for a boy his age. The Clutch must have been feeding him just enough to keep him alive, but not so much that he'd have any strength to make trouble. _No way they meant to give him back,_ he thought, his anger beginning to rise. _Must be planning to sell him when they're done here._ He clenched his fists, forcing his temper down as he considered how to deal with the boy when a series of shouts from the far left of the encampment drew his attention along with everyone else's. Guttural words of the general "Shut the fuck up" variety clashed with demands for release in a decidedly feminine though extremely angry voice.

_Complication number two._ The Trollog stalked into the firelight. In the dog-man's left hand were the ends of a net and trapped within was a human girl. The abbreviated furs she wore were the same as those worn by the warrior women he'd seen when he'd tracked down Sho months before. Warrior Maidens, they called themselves. The one below struggled ferociously and with not a small amount of vitriol as she was dragged across the dirt and trampled grasses like a fresh kill.

"Whatcha got, Progg?!" a large and muscular human asked, firelight flickering agianst his bald head. The Trollog held up the net, the girl trapped within apparently light enough for him, and his mutated bulldog-like head had a lecherous grin on it.

"Bring entertainment," he said, his use of words bringing the image of a troglodyte to Lisker's mind. "Need good time!"

"Hell yeah!" another human shouted.

"Been so long, even _you're_ lookin' kinda purty!" one said to the shouter.

"LET ME GO!" the unnamed girl below screamed. "DON'T TOUCH ME, YOU DAMNED SAVAGES!" She was maybe eighteen, Lisker saw. Nineteen at most.

"Don't do this! Please!" Lisker, surprised, turned his head to find William on his feet and grasping the bars of his cage. "Please let her go!" _Huh. Kid's got more spark in him than I thought._

"Shut the fuck up, brat!" the bald one roared. "You want the strap again?" Lisker noted how William involuntarily flinched at that one word before becoming quiescent again. _I don't care if he's the leader or not. He's gonna be first._

"If yer lucky, we'll give ya what's left!" another called out over his shoulder as Progg set the net and the tangled Warrior Maiden on the ground and a ring began to form around her. Lisker ignored her outraged shouts and the lecherous chuckling of bandits as he came into position to land behind the huge bald one.

He stiffened as Lisker's hand pierced the flesh at the base of the spine and grapsed the vertebrea tight. He waited to see how many would notice the boisterous human's silence. Most of the group were beginning to paw at the trapped girl, though some noticed their leader's silence and the blood oozing from his mouth. His presence known, Lisker yanked hard at the spine's base and pulled the entire vital structure through the flesh that surrounded it. Lisker said nothing as he moved toward the next target, a human with his penis already out and ready and whose head exploded from an intense right lunge. Fear and pandemonium reigned as he killed others with single strikes to vital areas before the massed gang began to scatter. Lisker ignored those humans and Trollogs who were on the periphery. Next to doing all the damage he could in a short time, a few stragglers were insignifigant. The slaughter was over almost as soon as it had begun, with several corpses now cooling at his feet and the threat of the Clutch now settled. Being the closer of the two hostages, Lisker examined the girl first.

Her one-piece tunic was made from the fur of a beast he did not recognize, but the look of terror on her face was all too familiar. Her oak-shaded eyes, the same as her shoulder-length hair, gazed up at him with barely muted terror as she fought for freedom from the tangling net. She was healthy, her muscle tone enough to give most girls of her age on Second Earth fits, and Lisker turned his attention to the caged boy.

_Damn..._ He was half-starved, Lisker saw on closer examination, with several deep tissue wounds inflicted via harsh beatings. He hadn't eaten in days, several of his body's systems beginning to prey on what little fat was available on the fourteen year old's frame. In all honesty, he hadn't expected William to still be alive. Lisker then looked at the wagon beyond the cage and the whimpers of the two captives faded into nothingness as the hinky feeling became dawning realization.

_SHIT!_ he raged on seeing it. _SHIT SHIT SHIIIIT!_ He searched the surrounding territory for the fleeing men, though he knew stopping them would do no good whatsoever. _Bad intel strikes again..._ Lisker turned his attention back to the furiously struggling girl.

"You," he said simply, and she froze as though suddenly encased in ice. "I'm going to set you free, but I need you to do something for me." Suspicion and resentment tinged the fear in her liquid brown eyes. "Not what these assbags wanted from you, don't worry."

"What, then?"

"You know where that boy lives?" he asked, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at the caged William.

"The outsider town of Watershed. What of it?"

"I want you to see him and that wagon safely back to Watershed."

"And then?"

"That's it. Do I have your word you'll do this when I free you?" She seemed to consider for a moment before nodding.

"You have it." Satisfied, Lisker bent down to grasp the tangled cords of the net and snatched them apart as though they were limp spaghetti noodles. The girl sprang up to her bare feet, backing away from him a step and staring into his faceplate. "What are you?"

"No one special," Lisker said as he walked over to the cage. William's cornflower eyes were wide in fear and awe, his knees trembling as Lisker grasped an iron bar in each hand and bent them apart with the sound of groaning metal. He stepped back as the unnamed Warrior Maiden reached in and grasped the younger boy about his thin shoulders.

"Thank you, sir," he said, his voice shaking.

"I've never seen a boy in such a state," the girl muttered sourly. "Come. Let's get you home, child."

Lisker said nothing as she half-carried William over to the buckboard seat of the wagon before untethering the horses. He waited until the pair was underway with the heavily-laden wagon before taking to the skies again. He searched for any sign that what he had seen had misled him, that his assessment of the situation was wrong.

He found himself disappointed.

Maria had toweled off and drained the tub, revelling in the feeling of being clean for the first time in months. She sat at the table, looking around at the somewhat unusual design of the house she and Lisker had more or less claimed as their own. The Wollo had never been in a human household before, and wondered at how _big_ everything seemed to her. She might have fallen for a human, but some Wollo-sized furnishings wouldn't hurt...

She raced to the door as Lisker knocked on the other side and snatched it open only to have her buoyant mood lanced. His face was a study in frustration, his posture tense and fists clenched.

"Did something go wrong?" she asked, though she had no clue as to what could have happened.

"I fucked up," Lisker said simply before striding over to the table and falling into the chair Maria had just vacated. "Didn't consider all the possibilities."

"Huh?" Maria, perplexed, walked over to him and placed her hands on one shoulder. "Tell me."

"Gil's kid was alive. They had him a goddamned cage, starving."

"Those monsters," she spat, "no better than Mutants."

"They'd caught one of those Warrior Maidens, had her in a net and were about to rape her."

"You _did_ stop this, right?"

"Oh, yeah. They won't be trying antything like it again, not even the ones I let get away. I got her to take the wagon of stuff they'd taken and see William home." His eyes squeezed shut at that. "One wagon. I didn't see it until it was too damn late."

"See _what?!_ Lisker, what are you talking about?"

"One wagon, Maria," he said, turning to stare into her eyes. "Loaded down, but still nowhere near enough to account for months of raids. I didn't see any others around, either. Believe me, I looked. They were shipping everything out."

"To who..." The answer came to her in a flash of realization.

"To whoever hired them. They were doing someone else's scut work." He shook his head, clearly angry. "I didn't put a stop to anything. I started a war, and Watershed's gonna be in the middle of it."

"You think whoever the Clutch were working for will come here?"

"They'll want to know who threw a wrench in the works, and they'll go to Watershed for answers. Probably with a lot of weapons, a lot of fire, and plenty of bloodshed to go around."

Maria's jaw went slack and the urge to throw up nearly overwhelmed her as the truth of the matter set in and twisted her stomach without mercy. Tears welled in her eyes and guilt squeezed her heart like a vise.

"It's my fault," she said, her voice small and choked.

"What?"

"If I hadn't... oh, no..."

"Maria, don't..."

"If I hadn't brow-beaten you into getting involved..." Her words were cut off as Lisker's powerful arms encircled her, one hand stroking her hair and the other carressing her back.

"You can't blame yourself, you couldn't have known. Neither of us could've. Beating yourself up won't solve anything."

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed into his shoulder.

Lisker gently pulled back and wiped the tears from Maria's eyes.

"Don't apologize. Like it or not, we're mixed up in this now. I helped make this mess, and I'll clean it up." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Where the Clutch is concerned, the people of Watershed just became my responsibility. I can't leave them in this lurch, and that's because of you."

"I'm..."

"No, that's a good thing, all told," he said with a gentle smile. "If I was the same man I was on Second Earth, I'd have just moved along and forgotten about it. You changed that man, Maria, for better or for worse, and you should never apologize for that."

"For better or for worse," Maria repeated, her tears drying. "In sickness and in health. As long as we both shall live."

"Wedding vows?" Lisker asked, stunned.

"I told you before. As I am yours, you are mine."

"We'll have to keep our eyes and ears open," he said, all business again. "Once they come, I'll have to be ready."

"That will mean going into town, getting the lay of the land," Maria offered. "Getting to know the people of Watershed."

"They can't get to know us too closely," Lisker said. "If anyone finds out that I'm the one in the armor, someone could hit me where I'm most vulnerable."

"Me."

"If no one knows, protecting you will be a lot easier." Lisker gave an ironic snort. "Hell of a way to start a new life, isn't it?"

"It's still our life," Maria said as she cuddled next to him, "and we'll live it our way."

With Lisker's path set before him, he takes the first step toward his own redemption, but how long is the road, and with how many wicked curves? Will this road lead him to the confrontation with Guyver One he seeks, or into a new place entirely. Only time will tell.

Stay tuned for Episode Two of Eye of the Storm.


	2. Naming Day

ThunderCats

Bio Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode Two

The days had been a constant stream of bedlam after their return to the Tower of Omens. The Wollos who had been enslaved had been met by the three who had escaped the taking of their village, and had departed to the southeast toward another village of their people. Salvador, along with his daughter Rosa and his grandson Miguel had enjoyed a tearful reunion with the female Ximena on their return.

The Wollos had departed with assurances that they could rebuild. Those reassurances were reinforced by the Western Berbils joining with the Berbil tribe which was more local to this part of Third Earth. Foodstuffs had been distributed and workers dispatched to lay the groundwork for the slow and painful process of rebuilding.

For Lion-O, seated at Tygra's left in Council that morning, all of those realities were pressing inward in the manner of an inexorable tide. He forced his mind clear, tapping the book Tygra had loaned him during his convalescence, as matters of great import were batted about.

"I suggest this," he said, still unused to the tone of command his voice could convey. "We need to establish not only a home, but a base of agriculture. We could learn much from the Wollos and Berbils."

"Seconded," Tygra said. "In fact, I've taken the liberty of having several Berbils download their knowledge into our databanks. We also have many spare seeds which they have spared us. Inside a year, we could become entirely self-sufficient in regard to food."

"Next," Lion-O said after a sip of coffee whose freshness alone invogorated him, "is the matter of a new Lair and home for our people."

"Again, Lion-O, I've taken the liberty," Tygra said. "I have a design for the new Cat's Lair drafted. First, however, we must find a suitable place to build our new home."

"I'll assign Cheetara and Sho to you for that. I know," Lion-O said to Panthro, "you don't like for Sho to rely too much on the Guyver, but we're almost in panic mode. It's not just the ten of us, so we have to conserve Thundrillium wherever we can. Cheetara and Sho can cover the greatest distances in the shortest time without burning a gram of Thundrillium."

"Can't argue with that," Panthro said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Next, we are to decide on naming new ThunderCats," Tyrgra said.

"The candidates are Myrlha, Torr, Laheela, Kyranna, and Siberias," Lion-O said.

"Siberias already has the ThunderCat title," Pumyra said, "and is willing to take that title up again."

"Good. About the others, then. So say all of you?" The votes proved unanimous. "Very well."

"Now," Tygra said, "I believe you have something you wish to put to Council, Lion-O?"

"I do." Lion-O took a deep breath as he dipped his toe into the waters of communal decision-making. "This concerns Sho. After reading this book of history - by the way, thanks, Tygra."

"You're quite welcome," Tygra said on receiving the tome from Lion-O's hand.

"I wish to put to Council naming Sho a Vanguard of Thundera." His statement was met with sidelong glances and small mutters of confusion.

"Lion-O," Tygra began, "you _do_ know that naming a Vanguard is a Royal decision, rather than a Council one?"

"Tygra's right," Cheetara said, her healed eyes locking onto his. Her restored vision was a constant source of relief for him. "To use one of Panthro's sayings, the Snarfball's on your side of the field."

"I know," he said, gathering his breath for what had to be said. "Listen. The more I think about the monumental amount of work ahead of us, the more I realize that I can't lead alone. I need you. All of you. I need your experience, your loyalty, and your honesty most of all."

"You have that," Lynx-O said, "though I am curious as to why you place emphasis on honesty?"

"What I mean is that I don't need my ego spared. If you think I'm screwing up, then tell me. My policy is open door, here."

"It's certainly heartening to hear you say that," Tygra replied, "though you'll forgive us if we use a bit more tact than simply saying you're screwing up."

"I don't want to start throwing around decrees and commands like candy," Lion-O said, the picture of somber. "If I'm to depend on the prowess of others, then let it begin here. I'd like your opinions on this."

"I say yes," WilyKit offered first.

"Same here," her brother said. "I mean, he _did_ give his life for us. Sorta, anyway."

"Sho possesses many traits that, were he Thunderian, would mark him a fine ThunderCat," Lynx-O said. "The title of Vanguard would fit him quite well."

"Look," Panthro said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "I can sum everything up here. Sho's earned it." True to his word, the other ThunderCats nodded their heads and agreed.

"That didn't take long," Lion-O said around a small grin. "I just have one question, Tygra."

"Yes?"

"Is there any specific ceremony to naming a Vanguard? Your book skimped on the details of that."

"To my knowledge, it's little different from naming a ThunderCat."

"Just so you know," Panthro added, "Sho _is_ the first Vanguard to be named in over five centuries. Make sure he knows the importance of that, and what the title entails."

"I've got a feeling that won't be a problem," Pumyra said from her seat next to Bengali. Lion-O glanced at her, again noting that something seemed different about the Puma.

"WilyKit," Lion-O said, "find Sho and have him report to Tygra in his quarters. WilyKat, find the new recruits and tell them to attend a special council session this evening. Once they accept, or decline, I'll address our people and commence the Naming Ceremony."

"If there is no further business?" Tygra asked to silence. "Council adjourned, then. Cheetara?" The two rose to retire to Tygra's quarters to await Sho and begin making plans.

The infirmary was customarily cool and sterile, with only a hint of the herbal remedies and medicines Pumyra was so skilled at preparing lingering in the air. The door slid shut behind them as Bengali studied his mate's posture, her stride, anything to find a clue as to what had been going through her mind for the past weeks. He'd caught her looking at him at odd moments during the treatment and adjustment of their freed countrymen as though she wanted to tell him something. Something vital. It hung between them like a great divide, and it was driving Bengali nuts.

"Sit down," she said, easing onto a bed and sitting with her shapely legs dangling just above the floor. "Trust me, you'll want to. Sit." Suddenly worried, he retrieved the chair behind Pumyra's desk and rolled it to face where she sat before doing so.

"What's wrong?" he asked, all other concerns now secondary, unimportant even. His breath came shallow as she seemed to steel herself, her hands claping each other in her lap.

"I first noticed the signs a few weeks ago," she began, "before Myrlha came to us. I've run the tests again and again, and the results are the same." She unclenched her hands and took his in them. "I've been wrestling with how to tell you."

"Tell me what?" Bengali asked, now frightened. "Pumyra, what's wrong?" An unexpected, and somewhat wicked, smile erupted on her face.

"Bengali, I'm pregnant."

Even more profound than the relief she felt at telling him was the look of complete and utter shock on his handsome face. His mouth gaped open, his pale blue eyes wide as saucers. She could even imagine his mane standing on end and his rear suddenly finding a substantial amount of air between it and the chair.

"I... I'm _what?!_"

"No, silly, not you," she chuckled, "me. But seeing you with cub would be _quite_ fascinating. Not to mention hilarious."

"Uh... oh... h..."

"Ask me how it happened," she said, scowling furiously, "and I sock you principle."

"I know how it happened," Bengali replied, going from shellshocked to babbling, "of _course_ I know how it happened, I mean, I was _there!_"

"Yes, you were there." _You love him, don't hit him. You love him, don't hit him._ "As I recall, you were rather enthusiastic about it."

"This... Pumyra!" Without warning, he sprang from the chair and embraced her fiercely for a brief second before suddenly pulling back, his face unsure.

"Our cub's still a zygote," she explained, deducing his sudden reluctance, "no need to treat me with the kitten gloves yet."

"Why didn't you tell me before?!"

"Well, things have been pretty crazy around here lately," she replied, "I didn't want you to worry too much about me, especially during the raid on Plun-Darr."

"What if something had happened to you?"

"We both came through the battle, that's all that matters." She kissed him slowly, revelling in the feel of his lips on hers before parting for air. "You do realize that I'd like for us to be formally joined while I can still stand for longer than thirty minutes at a time?"

"How about tonight?" he asked, jubilant and nearly hyperactive, "today? Now?"

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, but there's still time. I'd like at least a small ceremony."

"This is just... wow!" He reached down to pat her still-flat stomach which would become rounded soon enough. "It's a lot to take in. I mean..."

"I know," she said, smiling at him. "The news is usually pretty heavy for first-time fathers. I'd know. I just never thought I'd be the one breaking the news to my mate."

"Just makes it better," Bengali replied. The stood in silence for a few moments, expecting parents marvelling at the wonder of life. Regardless of species or planet of origin, the creation of new life was a thing of ecstatic beauty. "When do we tell the others?"

"How about at the start of tonight's Council session?" she suggested. "It seems kind of appropriate."

"My lips're sealed until then."

"Now," she said, "don't you have a special project in your forge to take care of?"

"Yeah. I'll get right on that," he said, his mind obviously a million miles away from the making of an amulet for Sho.

Oblivious to what had just transpired in the area of the Tower of Omens he was headed for, Sho allowed the same goofy grin he'd had on his face after the battle to reappear. He still had some trouble believing that he's been part of something so wonderful as having been part of a battle where the innocent had actually survived. Though his memories were still addled, he recalled enough to know that such had practically never happened in his former life.

He recalled, as he ofted had, the feel of Myrlha's lips on his own after the battle, and frowned at the new awkardness between them. Sho kept finding himself unable to let go as much in the brief moments the two had alone now that everyone had been brought to the Tower.

Sho shook his head, growling lightly at himself. He knew the pattern he was falling into. He knew it all too well. He was allowing the shy schoolboy he'd once been to dictate his actions.

_Haven't I learned by now what that cost me?_ he asked himself as he came to the door of the Infirmary. _Enough of that. I won't let it happen again._ The door opened suddenly and a severely addled Bengali staggered out into the corridor and walked away without so much as a glance to the human who shared the space with him. Sho's gaze followed him, half-expecting to find air beneath the ThunderCat's feet. He turned his eyes to Pumyra, who leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed over her breasts and a warm smile on her lips. He looked back and forth between them, certain he'd missed something and totally unaware of what.

"Whatever you gave him," he began, "had to be some _amazing_ stuff."

"Best ever," she replied, her voice somewhat dreamy.

"Are we talking about the same thing?"

"Probably not."

"Got it. I'll come back later."

"Hold it," Pumyra said, catching his shoulder after a couple of steps. "In case you didn't notice, the doctor is in." Sho allowed himself to be pulled into the Infirmary and steeled himself to ask what he needed to. Pumyra sat at her desk and with a wave of her hand indicated that he should take up the chair on the opposite edge. "Something's on your mind. I've treated you enough to see that. What is it?" Sho tried to speak, to keep the yammering out of his words.

"There's... there's this girl... woman... I like..."

"I don't suppose," she said, her face assuming a cheshire grin, "that her name is Myrlha."

"WHA...?!"

"Oh, come on," Pumyra said around a laugh. "Everyone knows about that epic snog she laid on you."

"Uh... yeah... Anyways..."

"Here you are! WilyKit said as the doors to the infirmary slid open to reveal her. "Lion-O wants you to report to Tygra's quarters, Sho."

"Looks like duty calls," Sho said with a trace of regret as he rose. "See ya."

"Until next time," Pumyra called back. She chuckled a little at the thought of him so in love that even he couldn't see it. Or, maybe he did?

"Sho!" Tygra called as he entered the Tyger's quarters. Everything was neat, all items in their place. The only thing the space lacked was labels for all the various instruments and placemats for them. "Come in!"

"Nice place," Sho said as he neared Tygra and Cheetara. The two were seated at a narrow desk, the light from the rising sun casting them both in its glow through the small window. "Reporting as ordered," he said with a lopsided grin.

"First," Tygra began, "I have designs for a new Cat's Lair. However, we still must find a place to build it. With the kittens, we shall try to find a place to construct our new home."

"So, where are they?" Sho asked, glancing about the small space Tygra used for his quarters.

"They're off doing something for Lion-O," he explained. "For now, it's just the three of us."

"So, you said you have some sort of plan?" Cheetara asked.

"I have prelimanry blueprints. Actual planning will require some hasty exploration, which is why the two of you have been assigned to this." Tygra looked at each in turn. "Now, finding the mountain which held so many natural caverns to be converted into corridors had been a stroke of supreme luck, but we can't count on that a second time. A site we select has to have several key features."

"Good soil for crops?" Sho guessed.

"Not just that. It has to be close to a viable site for a quarry, as well as near fresh water. There are many factors to consider."

"This will take awhile," Cheetara said, leaning back in her seat.

"Unfortuantely, time is something we're still running short on," Tygra replied. "Sho, just how much can you remember about this continent?"

"Well, the geography itself is kinda vague," the human said, "I was here mostly to get rid of Kronos. I _do_ know that we're in one of the best areas for growing crops. Maybe we should stick to within a few hundred miles north and south. East, if we have to. There's nothing much out west that can support much of anything."

"How about mountains?" Cheetara asked as Tygra brought out one of the maps Turmagar had given them. "I see several here."

"Keep in mind," Sho said, "these maps are thousands of years old. A lot can change over those kinds of years."

"Not geologically," Tygra pointed out.

"True. Okay, if you want mountains, try here," he said, pointing to the western border of a place once called North Carolina. "If I remember right, these were the Appalachian Mountains."

"To the west," Cheetara said, "are these. I wish the writing wasn't so faded."

"Those are the Rockies," Sho offered. "Lotsa stone, but a harsh climate."

"I agree. A bit too far west for our needs. Here's a promising site," he said, tapping one of the northmost parts of the American map.

"I know that one," Sho said. "Mount Rushmore. It used to be a national landmark."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Tygra. The faces of four of this country's most well-known presidents were carved on it."

"All I see are shapeless blobs."

"Well, this was over two thousand years ago."

"True. We'll set out in one week. Sho, we'll need your speed along with Cheetara's to make this happen."

"Count on it."

_This place is starting to feel like home,_ Lisker thought as he made yet another knot in the rope. Even with what he knew would come, he was beginning to feel comfortable with the farmhouse he and Maria had claimed as a home. The strores of food went a long way toward that, as well as the fabrics the former occupants had left behind.

"Lisker," Maria asked, "you still haven't told me what you're doing."

"You'll see it soon," he replied as he coiled more rope.

"It's awful tight."

"It's supposed to be."

"I never thought you were into this sort of thing," she said. "I suppose I can accept it with some time."

"Huh?"

"If this is how you really want it, I can adjust," Maria said solemnly. "I know some men like this sort of thing, you know."

"Wait. Back up. Are you talking about what I think you're talking about?"

"From what I'm seeing, at least you're bringing me into this easily."

"Whoa! Maria, this isn't about that!"

"I'm glad," she said, coming over to his left and looking at the rope which was coiled about the post which he had placed into the ground. "I could get used to this, but I would not have looked forward to it."

"What kind of pervert do you take me for?!"

"Thankfully, not this kind. I do not relish being restrained. Even so," she said with a wink, "If it is you, I could deal with it."

"MARIA!?"

"A Wollo woman devotes herself to her man," she said as she snuggled next to him, "no matter what."

"Did you really think I was trying to..."

"The thought crossed my mind," she said. "To tell the truth, I would not have objected outright."

"Okay, how's this for weird?"

"I have told you," Maira explained, "I am yours and you are mine. If this is what you like, I can accept it."

"I keep finding myself reminded of how amazing you really are." Lisker sighed. "I'm just making a punching post," he said. "I wasn't planning on doing any of this to you."

"You plan on punching this?" she asked, clearly puzzled.

"That's the long and short of it. Y'see, the rope will keep me from ripping my hands all to hell when I hit it."

"And you'd punch this why?"

"Can't let my training slip," Lisker replied and the shadow of something Maria did not like fluttered across his face briefly. It passed as quickly as it came once he looked at her. "Those pants really suit you, have I told you that?"

"I was wondering when you'd notice," she said with a grin, running a hand over the snug fabric. "I've never worn these before. It feels a little strange."

"You'll get used to it soon enough," Lisker said with a soft smile. "They match the boots nicely."

"Aw, stop it," she said with a blush beneath her fur.

"No, I'm serious... Huh?" Lisker looked up suddenly to find the diminutive shape of a Bolkin making his way up the lane to the farmhouse. "Dendel?!" he called out.

"So good to see life in the Camber house once again!" Dendel exclaimed as his short legs carried him closer. A kindly smile appeared on his sheep-like visage as he gazed at them both. "But, I suppose this should be called the Lisker house now?"

"Who are you?" Maria asked.

"Enjoying the boots, madam?"

"He's the one I got the footwear from," Lisker explained to her. "Damn good fit," he said to the Bolkin, who had come up to them by that point. He was smaller than Maria, his head coming up to just above Lisker's own waist. The simple brown robe was still in place, held closed by a length of old cord.

"Come in," Maria said, slipping into hostess mode. "I can make us all some tea."

"I'd like that very much, Miss Maria," Dendel said with a nod and a smile.

Lisker studied the Bolkin as they took seats on each side of a corner of the table which sat in the main room of the house. Something seemed screwy about Dendel's sudden appearance. No one who sold footwear, at least in his experience, made a house call to see if they fit well. Third Earth was a weird place, but not _that_ damn weird.

"We don't have much sugar," Maria called from the kitchen.

_Not as if he came over to borrow a cup,_ Lisker thought.

"Quite all right with me," Dendel said as he settled himself in a chair that was far too large for him.

"Are you the local welcome wagon, too?" Lisker asked.

"I guess I am this time."

_He's hiding something..._

"I thought about your advice," Lisker began, "and we just like the place too much to go skipping on our merry way."

"Can't say as I blame you now," Dendel said as Maria set the kettle and stoked a fire into life in the stove's belly. "Yes, sir, I have a feeling things will be much improved around these parts." He stretched his back, tiny pops sounding from his spine. "My, that's better. I find it funny, though."

"What?" _He knows. Oh, shit, he knows._

"Not even a day after you come into my shop full of questions, our problems with the Clutch get solved. Quite messy, from what I'm told, but the look on Mayor Gil's face when his boy came home was a thing to behold indeed."

"Fancy that, huh?" Lisker folded his hands atop the smooth table, staring directly into Dendel's eyes. "So, what brings you by?" _Trying to pump me for info, huh? Two can play that game..._

"This house has been empty since the Clutch first came," Dendel said. "I was just a little curious about the new folks in town. Surprised me to find your female friend to be a Wollo."

"Something wrong with that?" Lisker asked, letting just the right touch of menace into his voice.

"No!" Dendel replied, "no, no. I was just surprised. I can see you take good care of her."

"Of _course_ he takes good care of me," Maria said as she readied cups and saucers. "Certainly better than others have."

"Just so you don't get the wrong idea," Lisker said, following her cue, "she's not my property. She's with me because she wants to be."

"I was a slave once," Maria added. "I don't wear chains anymore, that's for certain."

"I see," Dendel replied. "Still, you purchased her from somewhere." There was a clear undercurrent of disgust in the Bolkin's words.

"Freed her," Lisker corrected. "The ones who had her before, they didn't treat her well. Let's put it that way."

"Seldom do," Dendel replied with a nod.

"When I found her, I couldn't very well leave her in that hell. So, I took her with me. As for her former owners..." Lisker let that hover unsaid in the air between them.

"They won't be doing any of that to anyone else again," Dendel finished, disgust replaced with approval in his speech. "Still, she serves you?"

"Things are pretty equal around here," Maria answered. "I'm no servant, not any longer."

"But, having said that," Lisker said with a small grin, "she makes better tea than I do. Trust me." The three of them laughed at that, closing the matter.

"William came back," Dendel began just as the kettle began to whistle, "saying the strangest things."

"Like what?"

"Something about a golden bug-man showing up out of nowhere and putting paid to those bastards. Mayor Gil set out with some men the next day. Tell you this... thank you, Maria... whatever it was left a God-awful mess."

"Sounds to me like they deserved it," Lisker replied before taking a sip of tea. "So, how about we cut the crap? I know why you're here, Dendel."

"What?"

"Maria told me Bolkins weren't good liars, but she didn't say you were _this_ bad at it," Lisker replied. He set the cup down onto the saucer before fixing his eyes back on Dendel. "I mean, you tripped yourself up before you even got started."

"Lisker, what are you talking about?" Maria asked, looking at him in bewilderment.

"The last time we spoke, Dendel here handed me boots and pretty much said I should shake the dust of Watershed off them. He didn't even follow me out of his shop, so how did he know to find me here? Also, he wasn't surprised for a second when he saw you, Maria." Lisker barked a short laugh. "He didn't know about how we work, though, which was why he said I'd bought you."

"I _was_ surprised to find that she'd broken the Taboo willingly," Dendel said. "Never met one who had. Most're forced, one way or the other. Knew a Tabbot once who got one by puttin' her two young ones to good work in his shop."

"So long as she gave it up on demand, her kids got three meals and a bed," Lisker spat. "That's how it usually is?"

"Sadly, yes," Maria said with a nod and a pinched expression. "That or simple brute force."

"Getting back on track," Lisker began, "what I want to know is how you found out. You didn't hoof it all the way out here just on a hunch."

"That night, I was on my roof. I like to look at the stars, and an old friend of mine gave me something he called a telescope some years ago."

"Good ol' spying," Lisker said, missing at first how wide Maria's eyes had gotten and that her teacup had frozen half-way to her open mouth.

"I saw lights over here, and I knew the house'd been abandoned, so I took a look. Don't know what magic you used to do it, but that change was somethin' else."

"Y... You..."

"Maria?" Lisker asked, looking over to find her trembling slightly. "You okay? Hey?!"

"You..." she hissed, "..._pervert!_"

"Ahkkgg..." Dendel croaked, clearly abashed.

"Deviant!" Maria shouted, just as clearly angry. "Peeping Tom!"

"Maria, what are you talking about..."

"Don't you remember?!" she yelled at him. "That night?!"

"What about it..."

"How I saw you off wearing only these boots and a _smile?!_"

"Oh." He turned his gaze to the cringing Bolkin, who looked for all the world that he wanted to be pretty much anywhere else on Third Earth rather than in that chair and under her smoldering stare. "Just so you know, you really don't want to see my jealous lover routine. Not pretty, Chief."

"I didn't mean to see you so... uh... _indisposed_," Dendel managed after a few moments. "I didn't know you'd be..."

"I'll just _bet_, but I'm sure it didn't stop you from getting an eyeful or two!" Maria shouted in response. "Were you hoping I'd do a dance for you?!"

"NO! I didn't even look long!"

"Dendel, some advice?" Lisker said conversationally. "Stop. Now."

"I... I aplogize," he said, this last meekly. "I never intended to... ah... that is to say..."

"Just stick with the apology," Lisker replied. "Maria, I'm sure he didn't mean to see you in the buff."

"You're not going to do anything?!" she asked hotly.

"Nothing to gain from beating him senseless," Lisker said, reaching over to place his hand atop hers. "There's a time and a place to pummel someone, and this is neither. Okay?"

"Fine," she relented.

"But," Lisker said, looking at Dendel, "I strongly advise against aiming that scope of yours over here a second time. Maria's not on display for anyone. Got it?"

"I understand," Dendel replied, releived at having escaped the hook.

"Now," he said, "I'd ask how much of this Gil knows, but I'm sure he heard it all through the door." At that, said door opened to reveal a lean man dressed in leather boots, tan pants and a grey blouse. A forest-green cloak adorned his shoulders, the same shade as his eyes. Brown hair hung to his shoulders, hints of grey at the temples lending his visage a hint of distinguishment.

"I see you're no fool, Mister Lisker," Gil said with a smile turning up one corner of his mouth.

"Might as well come in," Lisker said with a wave of his hand. "Not trying to heat up the outside, y'know."

"First," Gil said after closing the door and approaching with even strides and an extended hand, "I want to thank you for saving William."

"Sure," he said, taking the hand and noting the firm grip. "I was hoping to avoid a scene like this, though. Can't have your cake and eat it, too, I guess."

"Indeed," Gil replied, taking the fourth available seat.

"How is he?" Maria asked the mayor of Watershed.

"He will recover, given time and much rest," Gil said softly. "If you had saved any of them for me, I'd have wrung the life out of them for what they did."

"That bad, huh?"

"The healer says it was just abuse and starvation. It could have been far worse."

"Yeah." Lisker had seen more than a few examples of that during his days as a Marine, in thrid-world hellholes south of the Equator and elsewhere.

"I have no idea how you are able to transform like that, and if you want to keep that to yourself..."

"I'm going to."

"I understand. However, I don't know if you understand what you may have started."

"I do. Any idea who those Clutch punks were working for?" Gil eyed him appraisingly, nodding as though he had to improve his estimation of Lisker yet again.

"Certainly no fool," Gil said softly before replying. "No. I know that once word reaches their masters, or whatever, Watershed will become a big target. Crippled as we are, I fear we won't be able to fend off a major armed force."

"Why do you think I'm still here?" Lisker asked. Gil's eyes widened in surprise. "I'll save you the trouble of having to ask. I made this mess what it is, and I'll clean it up."

"I keep finding myself upping my view of you," Gil replied. "Would you mind if I asked why you got involved in the first place?"

"Personal reasons," Lisker said in a tone that did not invite questions.

"Good enough," Gil said. "Most of our fighting men were lost in the first assault. Those who remain won't be enough to turn away a major attack."

"How about weapons? Just swords and knives?"

"We have archers, but not many."

Lisker leaned back, pondering the choice that now stood before him. Muskets, while far from accurate, would go a long way toward making the forces of Watershed combat-worthy. Their construction was simple and, given the level of technology on parting company with the former Fortress Plun-Darr, anything more advanced or accurate required more than the locals could muster. Though he'd much prefer an M-16, a musket was far more realistic.

The only choice to make was whether to give them the ability to make gunpowder-fueled boom-sticks. It would be a considerable step up the tech ladder from bows and arrows, but what would the long-run impact be? History, as he'd learned, showed that leaps in technology often came in weapons first, usually through conflict. Those who had better arms tended to expand their territories always at the cost of people who had the misfortune of being in the way.

_I've got the Guyver,_ he thought. While true, he had no idea how large a force would come beating a path to Watershed's door. Would they be mercenaries or total fanatics? If he couldn't take them all out with the megasmasher, would what remained turn tail or keep charging? How well armed would they be? The fact was, without a capable fighting force to take down what got past him Watershed was as good as doomed. Plans needed to be made, fighters trained.

Weapons made.

"I'll help, but I have conditions. If you can't meet them, then I've got no choice but to pick up stakes and move on. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Gil said after some thought.

"First, no one knows about my ability. No one. I'm just someone who came through and knows a thing or two about combat."

"A fighting man, are you?" Dendel asked.

"Lisker was a soldier," Maria replied, her voice proud. "Trust me, he can fight even without changing." Lisker was grateful that Maria had managed to keep herself from saying "the Guyver".

"Next, I'll be in on the planning. I'll need the layout of Watershed, archery points, routes of approach, local terrain. We can't afford to overlook something critical."

"I can accept that," Gil replied. "Anything else?"

"Just one thing," Lisker said at length. "I need to know what your weapons are made from. If I'm right, I can improve them."

"Truly?!"

"But, this is my most important proviso. Any improvements or new weapons I make are _not_ to be used for anything other than defence. If I think you'll use them for conquest, I'll destroy them and any who helped build them. Understand?"

"I am a man of peace, Lisker."

"I've heard that before."

"You have my word. None of what you make will be used in conquest."

"I'm gonna hold you to that," Lisker said as he extended his hand once more. "Get your forces ready. I want to inspect them by tomorrow morning."

"What did you want to ask me?" Cheetara asked as she and Sho took leave of Tygra's quarters. The corridor was currently empty save for the two of them, and thankfully quiet. With the rescue of their countrymen, things had gotten fairly noisy over the past weeks.

"Well..." Sho was nervous, it was plain on his face. Cheetara, even though she could not gain any kind of mental impression of him, knew him well enough to see it and to guess what was bothering him. "How do you know... I mean, really know... when it's real?"

"When what's real?"

"... Love..."

"Oh." She allowed a smile to broaden her lips. _Just as I thought. She's got him bad._

"How did you know it was real for you and Lion-O?"

"I've known Lion-O a long time," she said, leaning back against the cool surface of the gently curving wall. "All his life, really. I knew I had a torch for him when I first saw him out of his suspension capsule. I thought it was just infatuation at first, but as time went on I realized it was more than just those chiseled looks. As a matter of fact," she said with a wink tossed in Sho's direction, "you had a role in it as well."

"Me?!"

"Remember when the Lunattaks captured you?"

"I was kinda hoping to forget that one..." Sho placed a hand behind his head, a clear sign he was embarrassed.

"Lion-O made a tough call in deciding to rush to your rescue, but it was the right one. He wanted to get you out of Alluro's control before they could..."

"Yeah, I know," Sho interjected. "The Guyver snapped me out of it, though."

"We didn't know that would happen. Lion-O knew he was taking a serious risk, but he also knew that letting them bring you here would have been far worse."

"I get you."

"He's never lacked for courage, but that day I thought he might never come back."

"I know," Sho replied with a haunted expression. "Believe me, I know what that's like."

"Sho, I know this is about Myrlha."

"Aw, crap, does _everyone_ here know about that kiss?"

"In a word, yes." Cheetara smiled warmly at him. "Everyone here living in a small area, privacy becomes a rather thin concept." Sho remained silent, though furiously blushing. "You're in love with her."

"But, I don't know why she kissed me. I keep thinking it was because of all the craziness that was going on then, but I want to think it's more than that. Cheetara, how can I tell? If you can't tell me, I'm sunk."

"And why is that?"

"From what I remember," Sho replied with an arched eyebrow, "men like to think they know it all when it comes to women when they really don't know the first damn thing. Excuse my language." Cheetara could not help the peals of laughter which rose from her stomach to burst from her lips, nearly doubling her over.

"Ex... Excused... and true!" she managed once she brought it back to a hearty giggle. "With that statement, Sho, you've shown you know more about women than you think!"

"Thanks," he replied with a grin of his own. "I mean, the best place for information is the source, right?"

"My advice, Sho, is to tell her. Let her know how you feel, and Myrlha will reciprocate. But, don't go thinking it's all wine and roses."

"She might not feel the same way."

"Even if she does, a relationship is not a fairy tale. Don't expect everything to go smoothly." Cheetara gathered her thoughts, searching for the appropriate way to say what he needed to hear. "Sho," she began, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder, "when you love someone, you offer them the gift of yourself. It's always a precious gift."

"The gift of myself..." Sho said at length, pondering. "I guess that's all I really have to give."

"It's the only thing that really counts. More than jewelry, pretty clothes, perfumes. Those are nice thoughts, but if you don't give yourself, then you're not giving much of anything."

"Thanks," Sho said, his face brightening once the blush finally left. "I think I understand."

"I'm pretty sure you do. You're rather bright. For a male, anyway." With a laugh and a wink, she left Sho standing in the corridor with his mouth agape and his eyes wide. She did indeed love to rib him on occasion.

The ThunderCats assembled, Council about to begin now that dinner had been finished. Sho left with a bow at the waist, a custom from his homeland, to help Snarf with the dishes. Lion-O's former nursemaid had a lot on his dance card recently, Sho and the kittens lending helping hands when and where they could.

"Council is now in session," Tygra said. "And, I've been informed that Bengali and Pumyra have something they wish to address." Lion-O looked at them, at how closely they sat together, and it clicked. A quick glance to his right showed him Cheetara coming to the same realization. Her eyes flickered to him and confirmed it.

"It's our pleasure to announce," Bengali began.

"That I'm with cub," Pumyra finished. The cheers were immediate and loud.

"Great news!" Tygra hooted. WilyKit smiled broadly at Pumyra, a hand atop the one Bengali's didn't occupy.

"I shoulda known it'd be the new guy!" Panthro cheered, walking over to clap Bengali heartly on his back.

"Congratulations, you two!" Lion-O rose from his seat and warmly clasped hands with the white Tyger and Puma in turn. "This is the best news I've heard in a long time."

"Thank you," Pumyra replied. Bengali echoed her gratitude while trying to rub at the spot where Panthro's hand had connected.

"And thank you, Panthro, for not breaking my spine," Bengali joked. After several rounds of congratulatory praise, Tygra managed to call the Council back to order and everyone returned to their seats.

"We would like to be wed," Bengali said, "as soon as convenient. Say, three weeks?"

"That will be plenty of time, thank you," Tygra replied. Then, he turned to Lion-O. "I know none of the books I loaned you covered marriage ceremonies, particularly among ThunderCats."

"Anything special I need to know?"

"Nothing earthshaking, I assure you. In the case of ThunderCats, weddings are officiated by the Lord of the ThunderCats or the King of Thundera. Since you currently are both - minus an official coronation of course - this will not be an issue."

"The only exception's your own," Panthro continued. "In that case, it's done by the Head of Council, or Lord of the ThunderCats if you pass that title onto a successor."

"Jaga was Lord of the ThunderCats, and my father was King of Thundera," Lion-O replied. "What do I have to do?"

"Nothing much," Cheetara said third. "There's a short speech, the two exchange their vows, and you seal the marriage with the Eye of Thundera. All the fancy clothes and rich food was just there for guests."

"Nothing fancy, please," Pumyra said. "We don't really need it."

"Very well, then," Lion-O said, smiling at the young couple. "Three weeks will be plenty of time for me to learn the speech and the ceremony. I'm looking forward to it, but not as much as the two of you." He winked at them which set another round of laughter about the table.

"Now, then, there is the matter of new recruits. WilyKit, WilyKat, did you assemble them?"

"We got 'em all," WilyKat said. "They oughtta be just outside the door."

"Then we'll have to explain the rowdy cheering," WilyKit added. "Want me to bring them in?"

"Please." She rose and strode excitedly toward the door to the dining area. The door slid open to reveal the five new candidates. Four, in truth, for one had been named before. Over the past weeks, they had traded in their tattered rags for decent clothing. Myrlha wore an outfit of purple, a one piece unitard which ended in open toes and heels. Streaks of gold adorned the sides of her legs, her arms and back bare.

Laheela had chosen black, similar to the uniform Lion-O now wore in place of the abbreviated blue one of his childhood. Around her shoulders was a ring of silver from which draped a pale tan swath of fabric which circled around her back and was slit at the front. A leather belt circled her waist with a holster on each hip bearing the pistol Turmagar had given her on the right with the firearm Myrlha had been given on the left. Sho had identified them both as SOCOMs, Special Operations Command Pistols, and had told him they had been military weapons for Second Earth soldiers.

Kyranna and Torr looked to be a matched pair, both in red outfits with a streak of black down the center and inside the legs. The only real difference was Kyranna's neckline plunged lower, her footwear toeless while Torr's ended in boots and a higher collar.

Siberias had opted for green with gold trim down the sleeves and legs. The elder Tyger's face, once his mane had been neatly trimmed, wore a look of calm and distinction. Of all the recruits, he by far looked the part of a ThunderCat.

"Thank you all for coming," Lion-O said. "Since the raid on Fortress Plun-Darr, many stories have reached us concerning the five of you. We were well aware of the risks Myrlha took to find us. Laheela, for your part in helping our countrymen rise against their oppressors. Torr, for your leadership and rallying those able to fight by your side. Kyranna, for standing with your mate and for the help you gave Siberias in his efforts to keep our people as healthy as possible in the worst conditions possible. All of you have shown that you are indeed worthy of being named ThunderCats." With the exception of Siberias, they all gasped in shock and glanced around as if unsure they'd heard him right.

"Council has considered," Tygra continued, "and has voted unanimously in favor of naming you all, should you decide to accept." The silence afterward was brief.

"I was a ThunderCat once," Siberias said. "When my king and my people call, I must answer. I will take up the mantle of ThunderCat once more."

"I... I accept!" Myrlha stammered, stunned.

"I'll make sure none of our people are ever enslaved again," Laheela said with a closed fist atop her heart. "I accept."

"We accept," Kyranna and Torr said in unison, their free hands atop their hearts and the others joined.

"Then, in honor of our ancient traditions," Lion-O said, "the Naming Ceremony will take place outdoors, in full view of our people, in fifteen minutes." he could't keep the smile out of his voice as well as he did from his face. "Congratulations, all of you."

"If there is no further business?" Tygra asked. "Council is adjourned."

Sho, who had been shooed out the door by Snarf once the dishes had been done, milled about the gathered crowd of Thunderians with no clue as to what the occasion was. Snarfer, who had to know, was keeping tight-lipped as he prodded Sho through the subliminal noise of many people speaking lowly to emerge at the head of the crowd.

"Best spot for it, yep, sure is!" Snarf's cheerful nephew said. From the hangar entrance to the Tower of Omens, the ThunderCats all emerged and took up positions in a semicircle behind Lion-O, who brandished the Sword of Omens. Slowly, five figures made their way out into the waning daylight. The entire scene held a strong feel of ceremony and tradition, the ThunderCats at the top of the sloping ramp as a king prepared to address his people.

_I guess he's my king, too,_ Sho thought. _Never been a subject before._ Still and all, he had cast his lot and his loyalty with the ThunderCats.

Sho recognized Myrlha straightaway and tried to keep his eyes in his head at the sight of her. _She's so beautiful,_ he thought. Sho gathered his resolve and recalled the advice Cheetara had given him earlier. Boom or bust, he would tell her tonight. Four others emerged behind her. Sho recognized the Tygress, Laheela, and tried to keep the image of an ancient west gunslinger out of his mind. Behind her were two he did not clearly recall, though he did recognize Siberias. _Pumyra's mentor,_ he thought.

"Thank you all for assembling," Lion-O's voice boomed. Sho saw a pale white rectangle over his throat, some sort of voice amplifier. "We have all endured dark times and strife since we lost Thundera. Through it all, though, the Code of Thundera has never left us. We never abandoned hope that one day we would come together as a people again. That day is here, my countrymen.

"These five you see alongside me have proven their mettle, their willingness to risk everything for the good of all Thunderians. As such, it is my honor to name them as ThunderCats this day."

_Congrats, Myrlha!_

"As such, you are named," Lion-O said, aiming the tip of the Sword of Omens at a red disk just over her left breast. "ThunderCat Myrlha!" A thin beam leapt from the blade to the disk in which the relief of a cat's head in black swirled into life with a roar. "ThunderCat, Laheela!" The disk was just above the slit in the wrap about her shoulders. "ThunderCat, Torr!" The disk upon his chest ws filled with the symbol. "ThunderCat, Kyranna!" Her waist bore the new insignia. "Lastly, ThunderCat Siberias!" Like Torr, his new insignia was borne in the center of his chest.

"May you all bring honor to the ThunderCat name, and to our people. HO!" As one, the ThunderCats, and the assembled Thunderian people raised their right fists into the air and echoed the rallying cry of the ThunderCats with enthusiasm. Sho found himself joining in, and wondered at how natural it felt to do so.

"Lastly," Lion-O said once the cheer faded, "there is another to be named this day. This naming is special in its own right, and has not been performed in over five centuries of our recorded history. Sho Fukamachi, come to me." Sho looked right and left, unable to believe it despite Snarfer and Snarf's urgings to get his legs in gear. Dumbly, Sho pointed to himself, his face questioning. "Yes, I mean you," Lion-O chuckled. Sho was finally able to put his feet in motion, striding up the incline to where his friends awaited.

"Hey... Um, I thought you guys couldn't make me a ThunderCat," Sho said in an unsteady voice.

"There have been those, not of our folk, who have come to Thundera's aid in the past," Lion-O began, addressing his people once more. "Of them, some have gone above and beyond in the name of our people's defense, but very few so much as this human, Sho Fukamachi, Guyver One. For his contributions, for his part in reuniting us, it is my honor also to bestow upon him the title of Vanguard of Thundera." Cheers of agreement greeted those words, which left Sho even more gobsmacked than before.

Bengali stepped forward, in his hands an amulet of silver which dangled from a thin yet strong looking metal chain. Lion-O accepted the blank disk from him and turned to face Sho. Needing no prompting this time, he lowered his head and felt the amulet's chain against his neck. He raised his head to find Pumyra nearing with a midnight cloak in her hands. Sho turned about, facing all of the gathered Thunderians, his new countrymen, as she wrapped it about his shoulders and clasped it at the front. At her nudge, Sho faced Lion-O once again, whose eyes were dancing in a solemn face.

"So you are named. Vanguard, Sho!" The beam from the blade tickled as it impacted the silver disc. Its surface became a shade of green close to emerald as a cat's head insignia swirled into being, gold unlike the black of ThunderCats. The unreal nature of it all began to give way to a fierce sense of pride and fulfillment. Sho, for the first time in so long, finally felt as if he belonged somewhere. Any lingering thoughts he had concerning leaving them evaporated like dew beneath the sun. He could not leave them, not now nor ever.

_If they only knew how good this makes me feel,_ he thought as he held the amulet to his eyes.

"My countrymen," Lion-O said, building to the climax of the address, "Third Earth is about as different from Thundera as one can find anywhere. We will build a new home, we will restore the glory of Thundera. But, we cannot ignore the fact that others called this world home before we did. We must learn to share this world with them, we must learn from them. We are already scouting sites for a new home, and once one is chosen building it will take all of us working as one. I am your king, but I will not sit in rule above you. I will not accept a coronation until all our people have proper housing! I will not officially take the throne until a home for all our people is built!

"I will not sit and claim to supervise the work. I helped build the original Cat's Lair on this world, and I will help build our city. I will work beside you! I will dirty my hands alongside you! We ThunderCats will not consider ourselves elite! This is a new world, and new precedents have to be set! We have all come through many difficult times together, as a people! We have done so before, and we shall do so again!"

"Lion-O!" someone in the crowd chanted. Others rapidly joined in, the cheer growing into a rallying cry that buffeted him like the oncoming tide.

"Thank you!" he called out, his voice amplified by the chip at his throat. "Listen to my words, my countrymen! Your hopes are my hopes! Your dreams are my dreams! Your woes are my woes! I learned an ancient saying on this world. 'He who would lead, let him first serve'. I've learned the meaning of that during our time here. We ThunderCats may be the Nobility, but we have all known what it is to serve the best interests of others! Together, we can bring better technology to this Third Earth! Together, we can become strong enough to find others of our own still scattered among the stars! Working as one people, we can restore our home and give the survivors a place to call their own! I call on all of you to help make this dream a reality!" Lion-O finished, somewhat breathless and awed at what he had just brought past his lips, as the people chanted his name in a heated fervor.

_This is what it's like to be king,_ he thought. _Why did my father even want this job?_

"ThunderCats!" he shouted, "HO!"

"HO! HO! HO! HO!" The jubilant cries of his people echoed in the growing night as he returned to the Tower of Omens.

Sho waited atop the Tower of Omens, still struggling with how he would begin. He knew what he had to say, but actually framing it into words was defeating him soundly as he stared into the rapidly growing night. He heard the hatch open and counted the footsteps until Myrlha sat beside him.

"Lovely night," she said, her voice somewhat dreamy.'

"It is," Sho agreed. "Congratulations on your naming," he said lamely, searching desperately for a place to begin.

"Thanks," Myrlha said, sidling closer to him. Sho forgot all attempts at a smooth intro. He knew what he had to say, at what illusions like tact and timing had cost before.

"Want to sit down?"

"Sure."

Sho swallowed past the growing lump in his throat as he readied himself for what he had to say.

"Myrlha," he began, "I want to tell you something."

"That's why I'm here."

"You know how old I am, right?"

"Two thousand years, give or take a decade."

"Right."

"What is it?"

"Myrlha," Sho began as he brushed the cloak out around him and took a seat on the roof, "before I found the Guyver, there was someone." He took as deep a breath as he could as she sat beside him. "I don't know if there was anything like the girl next door on Thundera, but..."

"She was the girl you liked before you even knew you liked girls," Myrlha said. "We're maybe not so different on some things, humans and Thunderians."

"Her name was Mizuki. She had a brother, Tetsuro. My best friend in the world. He was there when I found the Guyver, the day it ruined my whole damn life." He spat the last out, wishing again he'd never found it despite all his experience that it was useless. "Kronos was a world-wide organization, turning humans into monsters called zoanoids and basically aiming to rule the planet. The three Guyver units had been stolen from them, and believe me they wanted the damn things back at any cost." Her hand appeared on his shoulder, fingers squeezing gently and Sho took strength from the contact.

"They came after you and your friend."

"I tried to keep Mizuki out of it, I figured if she was in the dark about them, well, she'd be safe. I was wrong."

"What happened?"

"I wish I could say I kept her safe." He willed himself to look into her soft eyes, finding no trace of admonishment when he admitted his failure. "I wish I could say I saved the world. I don't remember much of the past, but I know that on the world-conquering front, Kronos won."

"Oh, no..."

"I lost. Everyone. My father, my friends... Mizuki..." The darkness of his lost memories tried to swell up from the depths of his mind, tried to demolish his hold on his sanity. Sho steeled himself to press forward, to confront what he remembered of his past.

"You loved her," Myrlha said simply, but Sho still heard the faint trace of hurt in her voice.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. A long time ago. Myrlha," Sho returned her touch, and made no effort to keep the pain from his face, "I never told her."

"Never... Not a word?"

"I kept telling myself that fighting Kronos was all that mattered, always convinced myself that I'd have a chance later. Kronos captured her, after they'd taken over. I thought it was for bait again. They used a lot of the same tricks over and over. Guess they're called classics for a reason." Sho gave a rueful laugh at that. "They used her like they used my dad."

"Like they what?"

"They used my dad by turning him into a zoanoid made specifically to destroy the Guyver. I... I can't tell that story again, Myrlha, not now. I just can't..."

"It's okay," Myrlha replied, sliding closer to him. "You don't have to."

"I will one day, if you want to know, but I can't right now."

"I understand, Sho. Really, I do."

"I remember charging into the optimization facility. All those tanks with people in them, twisted and malformed things, all claws and fangs... She was in one of them." The dream returned, the sight of her misshapen body in that oxygenated sludge which triggered the genetic alterations... "They'd already gotten started. Mizuki... I smashed it open, and when I knelt down, she looked at me." Sho took several hitching breaths and Myrlha's hand traced from his shoulder to his back, stroking him as though he were a crying child. In truth, he wasn't very far from it.

"Tell me," she urged softly. "Let it out, Sho."

"The optimization process wasn't a simple deal," he explained, switiching to a safer topic for the moment. "Unless it was complete, the zoanoid would die within days. Sooner, the earlier the process was interrupted. The moment the changes to the DNA began, that was it. They weren't human anymore. When a human was turned into a zoanoid, they became slaves of Kronos, of the zoalords. She would have been dead once the process was complete, at least as I knew her.

"She looked up at me, Myrlha, and... and she smiled. She still believed in me, even after failing her."

"Sounds like you didn't, really," Myrlha said, her voice tentative and unsure.

"I know. At least she died as a human, not some Kronos puppet. She made me promise her something, Myrlha."

"What?"

"She made me promise not to give in, to never stop fighting. I watched her body deteriorate, faster and faster, and she held on until I gave her my word. She died in my arms and I couldn't do a damn thing about it." Sho raised his head, and the concern and simple caring in her face soothed him. "It took a long time, but I finally realized what she really wanted from me." Sho hesitantly stroked the side of Myrlha's jaw with his fingertips, and was heartned when she did not pull away or stop him outright. "It was after I found you and Salvador."

"Sho...? I..."

"Mizuki wanted me to let her go. Here," he said, placing his unoccupied hand over his heart. "She'll always have a place, but she won't hold me latched to the past. I told you all this, Myrlha, because I need to lay her ghost to rest. If I don't, I'll never move on."

"What are you saying?" she asked. Sho saw the hope in her eyes, and it was all the encouragement he needed.

"I never told Mizuki how I felt, and I won't make that mistake again. Myrlha, I don't know how you feel about me, and if it's not the same then I'll understand, but when I saw you, I fell in love with you."

Myrlha, for her part, was amazed that the triphammering of her racing heart and the roaring torrent of blood in her veins didn't break the silence after those words. Every awkward moment between them since the raid on Plun-Darr, every strained silence, every thought that her feelings might not be mutual was suddenly blasted away as though Sho had transformed and fired his megasmasher at them, purging them from her mind and heart.

"I know," she said at first, unable to quite put her feelings into coherent words. "Sho, I know, and..." She saw his face begin to fall, and mentally shook herself. _Damnit, girl, just say it!_ "I feel the same way."

"...!"

"You talked," Myrlha said, winking, "now it's my turn."

"All ears," Sho said, his face and his smile positively beaming. She sidled closer, enough to put her arms around his hard shoulders and nearly melted into the embrace he returned, his new cloak folding about them. She felt his warmth, his heartbeat, and suddenly she knew why she had such feelings for him.

"I've felt this for a while, too," she began, easing them back to the surface of the roof. "I've been asking myself why, trying to figure out what it is about you that I loved so much. Saving me from that big-assed bone serpent was impressive, and it didn't hurt your chances, but that wasn't it. It's not your powers, not your looks."

"I'm not exactly of the feline persuasion" Sho replied. "I know that."

"Hey, I'm not calling you ugly. I think you're rather handsome! In truth, it's the whole package, Sho, that I love. Your heart, your courage, your honesty, even that boyish charm you've got."

"What can I say?" Sho joked, easy and confident. "I've aged well."

"But, I didn't truly admit to myself that it's love until after the battle. I realized it just before I lip-locked you, but here and now I finally know why." She pulled back, just enough to look into his sea blue eyes. "When I'm with you, I feel safe. I haven't felt that in a long time, Sho."

"Safe? With me?"

"Like nothing in the whole universe can hurt me, so long as I have you."

"Anything that tries is gonna have to get through me," Sho said, his face hardening somewhat. "And they're not getting through me."

"Don't I know it, but it's not all I mean. Sho, you've never been a slave to anyone, I can tell that just by looking at you. You have no clue what it's like."

"Then tell me," Sho replied, carressing her cheek. "You listened to me, and I want to listen to you. Maybe we can both deal with our pasts."

"I wasn't a concubine, thank goodness. Guess I just wasn't pretty enough. Even so, it was hell. Pure hell, living in chains. Just because most of us were workers didn't mean that the rank and file of Mutant soldiers didn't have their way with some of us when the mood struck."

"Oh, God, Myrlha... I..."

"I was lucky. I was able to hide pretty well when one came looking for someone to drag off and violate. Others, though, sometimes at night I can still hear them screaming as they got hauled off. Sometimes, they never came back." Sho replied by holding her close again. "I'd wake up some days wondering if my turn would come, if I'd even make it through to night. Sometimes, Sho, sometimes I'd hoped I wouldn't."

"You'll never feel that kind of fear again, Myrlha," Sho said in her ear. "Never. I promise."

"I know, and you don't know how good that feels. How wonderful feeling safe truly is. Everyone feels that now that we're all free, and many of them thank you and Lisker for that as much as they do the ThunderCats and those Tuska people."

"I had no idea Lisker would do something like that," Sho said. "Like he's trying to redeem himself or something."

"Maybe you should ask Laheela about him. She spent some time with him before the battle, and she was in on his plan. Remember, though, she was a concubine. Primor's at that, and he set the standard for inventive cruelty."

"Maybe I'll ask her. But, for now, I'd rather stay here than learn more about Lisker." Sho snuggled against her, and she eagerly reciprocated. "Needless to say, I like it here."

"You'd better," she said playfully. "I know _I_ do." They were silent again, and she could feel Sho's heartbeat against hers, the lines of his muscles beneath her hands. He wasn't Thunderian, but for Myrlha that didn't matter a whit. Sho was _hers_, and she was his. In his arms, under the stars and his midnight cloak, the warmth of their bodies and hearts seemed all she needed.

"I'm new at this," Sho said, "and I'm gonna screw up from time to time. I know that. Can you bear with me?"

"Nobody's perfect, Sho. We'll take it easy, but we'll take things together."

"That time you kissed me..." Sho trailed off, somewhat embarrassed.

"Yeah?"

"Did I... um... Did I do it right?"

"What do you mean by do it right? I enjoyed it. It was pretty spur-of-the-moment, but..."

"I mean... You're not gonna believe this..."

"Believe what? Out with it, Sho."

"That was my first kiss." Sho said after a moment's silence.

"You _must_ be joking," Myrlha said, moving back once more to look at him. She found not a single trace of falsehood in his blushing face. "Two thousand years old, and _I'm_ the first woman you've kissed?!" The thought of it was surreal to say the least, how someone who'd lived for so long not to have kissed anyone. Myrlha remembered her first kiss...

_Oh, Sho..._ she thought. She found herself touched by how innocent about some things he really was.

"Hey, I slept for those two millinnea, just so you know," Sho said with a mock glare before the embarrassment returned. "Just so you know, it was worth waiting so many centuries for. Just like you."

Myrlha had trouble taking her next breath at those words, her heart full to bursting with feelings she thought life would forever deny her when the Mutants had captured her. After so much pain and degradation, of weeks and months of terror, all of it seemed lessened at hearing something so heartfelt.

_We _will _learn to cope with our pasts, Sho. Together._

"Well," she began with a grin, "you certainly won't have to wait anywhere near so long for your second kiss. I promise you that."

"I won't huh... MMmmmmm..." Sho responded, though his efforts were tentative and unsure.

"You're not bad," Myrlha said with a wink, "but practice does make perfect." They lay there, each the other's world, and just then nothing else mattered.

Beneath them, in the control chamber of the Tower of Omens, an exhausted Lion-O sought guidance from the ThunderCats who had not yet retired to their quarters. Bengali and Pumyra had begged off for some time alone, as had Torr and Kyranna. Laheela had, as well, saying she needed to practice maintenance of her new weapons. He wondered why she would stick to ancient projectile weapons when energy weapons could be easily made, but did not call her on it. Lord of the ThunderCats or not, he wouldn't simply start demanding answers. Siberias had left to inspect the Infirmary, wishing to familiarize himself with its layout and the unconventional medicines they had to rely on. Lynx-O, Tygra, Panthro, and Cheetara were still winding down from an eventful day, while the kittens and the snarves were off helping tend to the children who had been rescued from the Mutants as well. Some had no families left.

"HOW..." As one, each clapped their hands to their ears. Abashed, Lion-O remembered the vocal amplifier still adhered to his throat and peeled it off. "Sorry about that. I'm not used to this yet. You might want to give it an off switch, Panthro."

"It _does_ have one," the Panther replied. "You take it off your neck."

"Got it. Anyway, how did I do?" he asked plaintitavely.

"You were planning that speech, weren't you?" Tygra asked with a knowing look.

"It was pretty much off the top of my head," Lion-O admitted. "I just kept going after the Naming Ceremony."

"You definitely got that from Claudis," Panthro replied with a shake of his head and a lopsided grin. "You father could get crowds to eat outta his hands."

"He was a great orator," Cheetara added. "That's a very important skill for a king to have. Claudis was one of those kings who never used a royal speech writer."

"Did he learn that from Jaga?"

"Jaga was many things," Tygra answered, "but he was not a big talker. Royal Addresses were not his strong suit."

"Your assurance that you are there for them," Lynx-O began, "was quite well done. It is imperative for a king to stand for - and with - his people."

"Thank you, everyone. So, Tygra, how goes the planning?"

"Quite well, if I do say so myself," he said. "We have a general search area defined, and a team selected."

"Tygra and myself," Cheetara explained, "along with WilyKit, WilyKat, and Sho. We've asked Laheela to join as well, to even out our number. Tygra's already gotten gear selected, and we'll only need the outrigger pods of the ThunderStrike to get to the search area. I know about Thundrillium reserves," she said with a hand raised in pause, "but if we all go on foot it will take at least a week to just get there."

"Neither you nor Sho are passenger liners, either," Lion-O said. "I understand. How about the power core of the old Lair?"

"Once we select a site, I'll check that out," Panthro answered. "If we can salvage it, we will. Sho will be a big help there, too. Gotta clear that rubble away fast, and he's got just the thing to do it."

"If you want _anything_ cleared away in a hurry, you mean," Lion-O replied. "How about food supplies?"

"We'll take minimal rations," Tygra said, "and the rest we'll just have to hunt ourselves."

"Have you ever hunted?" Panthro asked him with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, no. Not as such."

"Men," Cheetara chuckled. "What _would_ you do without women?" Women traditionally hunted on Thundera while men handled dressing and butchering the carcasses. Cheetara's jest caused low laughter to rumble in the circular room. As they said their goodnights and filed off to bed, Panthro happened to catch a glimpse at the Braille Board.

"Hey, who's up on the roof?"

"That'd be Myrlha and Sho," Cheetara said, pausing in the doorway. "Admission of feelings in progress."

"They've been up there quite a while," Tygra mused as he checked the sensor logs. "I had a feeling about those two."

"You don't think..." Panthro began, looking up from the console to Tygra.

"Young couple," he said, "newly in love..."

"Aw, hell, not on the _roof!_" Panthro dashed out of the control room with Tygra close at his heels.

"It may not be what you think," Tygra said as they neared the ladder to the roof's access hatch.

"Sure it's not," Panthro replied, "and I might not be an engineer!" Cool night air greeted him as he clambered onto the gently sloping surface and dashed over to the Cat's Eye with every intention of bawling out his pupil for such gross indiscretion when...

"Oh." Panthro shook his head and chuckled at the sight of it. The two lay wrapped in each other's arms and Sho's cloak soundly asleep and fully clothed, Panthro saw with relief.

"So," Tygra said softly so as not to disturb the new couple, "what were you saying about being an engineer?"

"Yeah, yeah..."

"We _should_ wake them."

"Ahhh, I just don't have the heart," Panthro replied, stepping back. "It won't get all that cold tonight, anyway." The two of them walked quietly back to the access hatch just a light purr floated into the night. "I really hope that's not him," Panthro muttered just before descending the ladder.

In the next episode of Eye of the Storm:

The village of Watershed gains a new defender in the form of Oswald Lisker, and the nearby tribe of Warrior Maidens learns of his powers through a message from their decimated sister tribe.

The search for a new home begins as the team of ThunderCats land in their chosen search area.

All the while, the satellite far above continues to steal and store data, and the Warhammer continues its voyage to Third Earth at speeds which defy the laws of motion.

Collision for these three forces is inevitable.

Stay tuned for the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	3. Come the Winter

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode Three

_Yeah,_ Lisker thought as he beheld the map on the oaken table, _Alamo, anyone? This fucking blows..._ Mayor Gil's house was not opulent, nor even extravagant, but it was indeed sizeable. Furniture upholstered in gleaming brown leather offset the timbers which streaked across the A-frame ceiling and the polished wooden floor. A fireplace which could hold the one in Lisker's own home as well as a chunk of the living room rested in the far wall with a merry blaze already burning away in the hearth. The entire foyer was nearly the size of his entire house. The Camber family, it seemed to him, had not been anywhere near as prosperous as farmers as he'd thought. The jewelry he'd found had to have come from some other source of income.

"No way the Clutch's employers are gonna stick to the main roads," Lisker said as he and Gil studied the map. "There's just too damn much open space."

"They won't be able to go through the forests north and west of here," Gil replied. "Those're mostly the turf of a goodly-sized tribe of Warrior Maidens, and they don't truck with outsiders at all."

"Meaning they won't lift a finger to help us," Lisker said. "Unless our friends are dumb enough to try marching through those woods. Since we can assume they're not _that_ stupid, it at least leaves one avenue of approach out of the question."

"Even so, they can still surround us," Gil said as he pored over the map. "One thing we can be sure of is that they won't come here until winter is over. The cold makes shipping goods vitually impossible, much less marching armed men."

"That gives us, what, six months?"

"Thereabouts," Gil replied. "What did you think of our weapons?"

_I think you're better off with mud pies,_ Lisker had the good manners not to say. "All your swords are made of iron?"

"It's the best metal for sword-making."

"What do your smiths know about making steel?"

"About making what?"

"Steel," Lisker began to explain, hiding his exasperation, "is made from purifying pig iron."

"How is this done?" Gil asked with rapt attention at such a concept.

"First, though, I'll need to show you how to make a smelter," Lisker said. "A forge alone isn't gonna get hot enough to make steel, at least any worth using. After that, I can make stronger swords. I can improve your long-range capabilities while that's being made."

"Better bows and arrows?"

"Not exactly," Lisker said as he unrolled a scroll of parchment he'd found in the bedchamber of his house, on which were designs he'd made from memory. "This, Gil, is called a musket."

"How does it work?" Gil's eyes were glued to the sheet, drinking in every line with naked curiosity.

"It fires a lead ball, that one," he said, pointing to a black sphere beneath the image of the gun, "into a target a lot faster than an arrow flies. The only downside is that you only get one shot before you have to reload. Just one of these isn't gonna cut it. I'll have to show some of your people how to make them, so we can get as many as we can."

"I see. How do you fire it, then?"

"For that, I'm gonna need to make some gunpowder..."

"How about the powder Vargas discovered?" Dendel piped up, "would that do?"

"Depends. What's it look like?"

"It's black," Dendel replied. "When you set fire to it, it makes a loud bang. We couldn't find a real use for it, truthfully, but if it helps you make this musket thing..."

"I meant the texture," Lisker explained. "Was it powdery, or gritty?"

"Powdery," Dendel replied after some thought. "Yes, that was it."

"Black powder," Lisker said. "Not what I need, but it's a start. Where can I find sulfur around here?"

"Sulfur?" Gil asked. Lisker wanted to shake the man. _How much has humanity forgotten?!_

"It's a mineral. Yellow, and stinks like rotten eggs."

"I know where to find some of that," Gil said. "There's a cave not far from Watershed, we call it the Stench."

"The smell," Likser mused, "gotta be lots of the stuff down there."

"We've never had a use for it, the sulfur, and the smell's so bad that no one even wants to go in there."

"Well, we're gonna have to, or these muskets won't have enough bang to matter."

"It's amazing, really," Dendel said as he looked over the design of the gun, "almost as if you know a thing or two about ancient technology."

_More than you'd believe,_ Lisker thought. _Muskets. What I wouldn't give for an M-1 tank and a gunship or two._ Watershed, he knew, was nowhere near that kind of war machine tech. Despite himself, he found that thought relieving.

"How are you today, William?" Maria asked as she brought the tray bearing a bowl of porridge and a glass of juice over to his lap. He lay on the bed, still looking pale and thin, but his blue eyes were shining. Just having been brought home had seemingly been enough to put the boy's body back on a healing track.

"I'm well, Miss...?"

"Maria."

"Miss Maria. Thank you!" he exclaimed as she set the tray before him. "I was starting to get hungry!"

"Enjoy," Maria said, smiling at the boy. She tended to him only because Lisker had asked her to. Maria could understand why, the boy needed someone to look in on him. Also, Wollos were far from warriors. Battle planning was something none of her kind knew much of. Nurturing the injured, on the other hand, was something women of her people knew scores about.

"Cinnamon?" William asked before dipping the spoon in.

"Yes. Your favorite."

"Is it ever!" William blew on the spoon a few times before putting it in his mouth. "Did father tell you about this?"

"He did," Maria said as she dragged a stool to his bedside and sat atop it.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked after another spoonful.

"Of course."

"Are you a Wollo?"

"I am," Maria replied.

"I've never seen a Wollo before," William said. "You're very pretty."

"Why thank you!" Maria exclaimed. "And, might I say, you're a rather strapping young man yourself!"

"I know father doesn't buy slaves," William said, his eyes now betraying knowledge beyond his years. "And Wollos don't live around here. Can I ask how you got here?" William's face became apologetic. "I have to know."

"I'm not here for Gil," Maria said. "I'm here with Lisker."

"I've heard that name," William said after downing more porridge. "I heard father and Dendel talking just after Natalie brought me back here. I heard the name 'Risker'."

"Well, it's Lisker. He's the one I'm here with. I'm not his servant, nor his slave."

"Then, why are you with him? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"That's a long story," Maria said as she stroked a stray lock of William's hair back behind his ear. "Let's just say that I want to be with him, and leave it at that."

"Okay. So, was it him?"

"What?"

"The golden bug-man. It was him, wasn't it?"

_Such a perceptive young man,_ Maria thought. "Don't worry yourself about that. If all goes well, he won't have to appear here again."

"It _is_ him, I knew it!" William sat bolt upright in his bed. "I knew when I first heard that Lisker's voice!"

"William," Maria said, her voice stern, "do not tell anyone about that."

"Why?"

"Just trust me, please. The only others who know besides us are your father and Dendel." _That little pervert..._ "Please, William, you must keep this to yourself." Maria recited the lines as Lisker had given her, knowing that this innocent young boy would likely put two and two together. "If anyone else knows, the Clutch may find out."

"I understand," William replied, his eyes shadowed with terrors inflicted on him.

"I'm glad," Maria said warmly. "Now, eat your porridge. It gets nasty when cold, cinnamon or no cinnamon."

"Yes, Ma'am," William replied with a wink. Maria responded in kind before taking her leave.

"So, Pumyra," Siberias said as he walked into the cheerily-lit Infirmary, "what is it you so wished to show me?" He studied his former student carefully, noting how the excitement seemed to radiate from her. Whateve this was, it had to be something huge.

"This concerns Sho," she began, patting a seat next to her which faced a data panel. "Or, more correctly, the Guyver."

"I'm rather curious about that armor," Siberias replied as he took a seat. "I admit I was somewhat skeptical when you told me it is, in fact, a lifeform."

"From what I can tell," Pumyra began, "the Guyver is a symbiote, a creature whose relationship with its host is beneficial for both. I have no idea what the bio-booster armor gets from Sho, but we've all seen what it gives him."

"What is this truly about?"

"Right to the point," Pumyra said with a shake of her head, "you haven't slowed down one bit. What most interests me, and will interest you, is this." Pumyra tapped a sequence of commands into the data station to call up her files on Sho's first battle with Guyver Two.

"Hmmm..." Siberias studied her notes with a keen eye which grew wide with shock as he fully absorbed the data. "This is... it's patently impossible!" he gasped. "Those wounds should have _killed_ him!"

"I saw first-hand how the Guyver healed not only Sho, but itself as well," she replied before calling up another file. An image of a stretch of desert appeared onscreen, populated with the Lunattaks, Mumm-Ra, Grune, and a large white-furred creature who stared down Sho in his armored form. The image of herself hanging in chains alongside WilyKat pulled up no feelings of humiliation, partly from time and mostly because of her professionalism. "The observations and readings I took confirmed that the bio-booster armor is indeed alive, though I have no idea if it's actually sentient. This video file also raises some questions on whether or not it's intelligent, and also displays a rather frightening power it holds. Just watch."

"What manner of creature is that?" Siberias asked as the recording began.

"Ma-Mutt. Some kind of familiar for the demon Mumm-Ra, the grey one in the cloak. That form, though, is shaped after something Sho calls a zoanoid. We don't know much about them, but the only true one we've encountered was called Dyme, the one who's making the dirt move like that."

"Fascinating..." The playback continued as Sho fought against the two super-monsters. "I witnessed this one as it killed Primor." After dodging a strike from the larger creature, on screen Sho drove his vibrating blades into the living soil. "And, I'd been wondering what had truly happened to it," Siberias said as the humanoid earthen form reached for help only to crumble and blow away on the wind.

"This is what I wanted to show you," Pumyra said with a grimace at the sight of the creature called Enzyme speared Sho's limbs and tore open the back of his head with its dripping fangs.

"Obviously," Siberias said, keeping his voice even to hide his horror at the grotesque sight, "Sho survived. But, how?"

"One thing about my... well, predicament, was that I had a unique vantage point," Pumyra replied. "Professor, I _saw_ his brain tissue regenerating even while the Guyver was fighting the Lunattaks.

"Looks more like a slaughter," Siberias said with a grimace as the playback continued. "Clearly, Sho could not have consciously done all of this."

"We were told that the Guyver enters a defensive state if the host is ever mortally wounded. Also, that the control medal cannot distinguish between enemies and friends."

"I had no idea the Guyver was so terrible a weapon," Siberias said once the playback ended. "Having said such, I must admit I am more than curious to learn how it is able to regenerate so quickly."

"I wasn't in a position to take any specimen samples from the incident you just saw," Pumyra said, "but I _was_ able to collect several from his first fight with Guyver Two."

"Never let an opportunity to learn slip." Siberias replied with a gentle smile. "You were such a good student."

"After analyzing them," Pumyra broke off, staring intently into Siberias' eyes, "the possibilities for medical science are just astounding!"

"And frightening," Siberias said at length. "You cannot deny that the Guyver is, all told, a weapon."

"Of course not, but understand," Pumyra said, "that this may well be the breakthrough we've been waiting for! You've seen fatal wounds healed as if they were scratches! They healing ability of the Guyver could propel our knowledge of medicine decades forward!"

"Yes, but what of unforseen cirmustances?"

"What?"

"An organism which can heal the most grievous wounds," Siberias began, "and can not only restore, but reanimate a dead body into a ruthless warriror. Pumyra, you must see the potential consequences of such research."

"I've already factored that in," Pumyra replied hotly. "Professor, this could be the making of a new era in Thunderian medical science!"

"Also the ushering in of new bio-weapons," Siberias replied. "Things that even the Code of Thundera was not prepared for!"

"We cannot abandon this reasearch! The potential yeilds alone are staggering!"

"As well as the risks. Pumyra, I'm not saying we should abandon the research, but that we should proceed with caution. We are dealing with a life form no Thunderian has ever encountered before."

"In truth, the same could be said for every form of life on Third Earth," Pumyra said. "Animal, vegetable, and otherwise. In my years on Third Earth, I've encountered species unlike anything I ever dared dream of. This is a foreign world, with foreign life. I've learned quite a bit, but the Guyver exceeds all my experience. If we're to harness the good it can do for medicine, then we have to get started now."

"I agree," Siberias said at length. "However, we must strictly control the direction this research will take. We _must not_ try to develop weapons with the... what do you call them? The specimens you collected, I mean."

"Guyver Cells. G-Cells for short, and I have no intention of..."

"I know, but as your former teacher I must reiterate this. We _do not_ develop bio-weapons. From what I have seen of the Guyver, the development of such would be all too easy."

"How well I know it," Pumyra said. "I told you I factored that in. I have no intention of weaponizing any of this, nor will I let it happen."..

"Coming from you, I believe that," Siberias replied with a small grin. "You do realize that this will be the work of years, if not generations?"

"I realize that. So long as we lay the groundwork, our medical science can only benefit."

"Then, let us begin."

"You're real quiet," WilyKat said from his position behind Tygra in the ThunderStrike's left outrigger pod. Half of the neccessities they'd need were stored in the aft compartment, with the other compliment of searchers and supplies equally stored in the opposite. Sho leaned back against his seat which rested at the very rear of the pod and lay the book in his lap.

"Just reading," he said mildly before casting a brief glance outside. "I've got some time, so why not?"

"We're gonna explore other parts of Third Earth," Kat said, "don't you have any advice for us?"

"Other than be careful?" Sho replied. "This world is as alien to me as it is to you, y'know."

"This world has changed since Sho last walked it," Tygra said from his place at the outrigger's helm. "The places and things he knows likely aren't here any longer."

"What's got you so wound up, anyway?" Sho asked.

"I'm just so... bored!"

"Read something," Sho replied. "I've got some..."

"Aw, that's boring." Kat replied offhandedly. "A ThunderCat does adventure better than he does reading about it!"

"Lion-O used to say that," Tygra added. "He learned better, and I think you'd best follow suit."

"It's still hours before we get to base camp," WilyKat added.

"Then get a nap," Sho said, "Or borrow a book. Failing that, I can sing 'One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall'."

"What?"

"Trust me, your not missing much if I don't. Just calm down, WilyKat."

"Tygra to Outrigger Pod Two," Tygra said, "how are you doing over there?"

"Everything's normal on our end," Cheetara said after activating the comm. "You boys behaving yourselves?"

"Party of the year over here," Sho's voice replied. "We just broke out the beer, and you should've seen Tygra's kegstand."

"Well, don't get _too_ hammered over there," WilyKit joked.

"Everything's fine," Tygra said over the laughter. "It seems Sho is in rather high spritits. No pun intended."

"Until we reach base camp, then. Cheetara out."

"You okay back there, Laheela?" WilyKit asked, glancing back at the new ThunderCat.

"Huh? Oh, yes, I'm fine." Laheela said, snapping out of a doze. "This seat's pretty comfortable."

"Anyone who needs a nap had best get one while they can," Cheetara said. "Once we touch down, we'll have to hustle to get camp established before dark."

_It's all so strange,_ she thought as she resumed staring at the sky of her new homeworld passing by all around. In the weeks since her and her countrymen had been rescued, life had seemed so hectic. Laheela shook her head at the madness of her life, moving without warning or preamble from accounting assistant on Thundera to waitress on a space station to sex slave and from there to slave laborer and then to key instrument in Lisker's bid for her people's freedom. Topping it all off her been her recent naming as a ThunderCat. For most, it would have been the happy ending to a tale of tragedy and loss. No matter how hard she tried, though, Laheela could not see things that way. She'd endured too much horror and degradation to believe in happily ever after, no matter how badly she wanted to.

_At least Myrlha's happy about everything,_ Laheela thought as she recalled the quick kiss she had seen the former share with Sho just before departing. It had been brief, yet full of emotion. Those two were ass over teakettle for each other. _Is that what I need? Someone to care for that way?_ She shook her head slightly at the notion. No matter what, she would never let any of her fellow Thunderians feel the yoke of Mutant - or any other race's - oppression. That notion by itself was enough to validate her new title of ThunderCat.

She gazed out of the lone window of her hut to behold an endless vista of reds and golds as the leaves changed once more, leaving her own Treetop Kingdom a dazzling display of Autumn in full swing. Verona had always loved this time of year, the stark colors of the leaves as they fell to nourish the lush earth below before the cold set in and tunics were exchanged for thick furs. The meats hunted throughout the Spring and Summer which had been cured for the long winter were squared away, and her own tribe of Warrior Maidens were well prepared for the oncoming freeze.

However, they were not prepared for another arrival who had taken up residence in an outsider village not very far away and who could pose a severe threat. Verona looked down at the message which had arrived from the the Southern Tribe, decimated by recent events.

_Events involving outsiders,_ she thought bitterly. _Lily, you fool. I told you..._

"I have come as bidden, m'lady," Natalie said, dropping to one knee on the rough floor of her hut.

"Good," Verona said, turning to face this young maiden. "Tell me again about the golden bug which you saw that night."

"If it pleases," Natalie began, "I had been snared in that net, when it appeared and slaughtered those beasts which clothed themselves as men. As I said before, it bade me escort the young boy home in exchange for my freedom."

"Truly a strange thing," Verona said slowly. "Tell me, do you know this face?" Verona asked, handing the rolled paper to the still-kneeling Natalie. The younger woman gazed upon the features inked on the paper with no trace of recognition.

"No. Should I?"

"From the letter sent to me by Analee, this is the true face of the creature you saw."

"Analee? She lives?!"

"Indeed, though I cannot say the same for many of my sister's failed experiment." Verona took a deep breath at that. "To make a long story short, this man is the same as another Analee has warned others of us about. He is called a "Guyver".

"Guyver, you say?"

"What you saw," Verona began, already pacing back and forth before the window which granted one of the grandest view of their trees, "is a transformed state of a man who has gained incredible power, if what Analee has written is true. Be at ease, young one, for I trust her word completely."

"Exactly how powerful is this man?"

"Far moreso than your report of his sighting in the wood indicates, young Natalie. Do not wear that troubled face," Verona said. "You had no way to know. As such, the recent sighting of this Lisker has me greatly troubled."

"If it pleases you... ?"

"Of course."

"I don't think this Lisker, if he is the one I saw before, is a threat to us."

"What makes you think this?"

"His concern seemed to be my safety, as well as the outsider boy," Natalie explained. "He could have demanded a far higher price for my seeing the child home, but he did not."

"This proves what, exactly?"

"M'lady, I'm confused. Why are you asking me these questions?"

"Ah. Indeed, I should have shown you this," Verona said languidly as she sauntered over to her table. From its surface she plucked a roll of parchment which she then proceeded to hand to the younger woman. As Natalie read the words inked on it, her eyes grew to saucer-like proportions, color draining from her face.

"Unbelievable..." she breathed after reading for a second, then a third time. "Guyvers are truly so powerful?" Verona brushed a lock of midnight hair, now streaked with some lines of grey, back behind an ear before replying.

"Had this come from any other than Analee, I would have discarded it as paranoid wonderings. Since it did not, I must regard it as true. I sent her to accompany Lily all those years ago for a reason." With that, she resumed her place on the ornate wicker throne which was hers by birthright. Brilliantly colored plumes from the birds which called her forest home during the warmer times were affixed to the outer ridge of the throne's back, violets and reds and greens. "Rise, Natalie, you've been on the floor long enough."

"Yes, M'lady."

"Having read this," Verona began, "you can see my concern, I trust?"

"Forgive me, but..."

"I forget how young you are, sometimes," she said with a shake of her head. "This Lisker is not only an outsider, but a man. We may belittle then men of our tribe, I do not deny it. We do not allow them to learn the ways of battle for the simple reason that once they taste power, of any sort, they become beasts."

"I know the old stories," Natalie replied, "of how women were once subservient to men."

"More than stories, Natalie, history. The man called Lisker has tasted of power, greater than any we have ever known. Though he did rescue you and that outsider boy, and those beasts who had captured you deserved their grisly fate, you must realize that this act was good and noble only on the surface. We don't know what his true intentions are."

"You think he means us harm? Forgive my ignorance, but why?"

"I do not know what he wants here," Verona said with a sigh. "It may be possible that he wants nothing to do with us."

"You don't sound like you believe that," Natalie ventured.

"To tell the truth, I don't. A man with such power..." she said, trailing off toward the end. "We must learn all we can about him, about his aims in these lands. This Lisker could cause serious trouble for us."

And so the months of winter dragged on in their usual drudgery as the people of Third Earth hunkered down against the cold. Snow and ice coated much of the fertile lands as they did since time immemorial, transforming lush greenery into frozen white before melting and giving way to life once more.

For the ThunderCats, the journey into the unexplored hinterlands of Third Earth had borne fruit. The party had discovered a viable place to begin building a new home with land whose texture was rich and black with nutrients. Near a fast-flowing river to the west, which stretched seemingly into forever, they had found both farmland and bountiful fishing. Sho had remarked that this river had not existed in his time, and mirrored another to the east. After failing to recall what the word "Mississippi" meant, other than it being the name of the eastern north-south river, he told them that it likely stretched from an undiscovered source to the north all the way to the southern reaches of the ocean named the "Pacific".

In the bunker beneath the Tuska lands just across said western river, Panthro had discovered that the heavy machinery stored within could be converted to run on thundrillium, though with extensive modifications. The cold months in the desert of the Tower had been spent laboriously making them able to run on the most precious resource of ore, a task which he relished in. Bengali's forge glowed hot indeed as he taught Sho how to make plowshears, the most basic skill of the blacksmith. The human took to it in the same manner as a duck to water, learning this skill in little time and providing much needed assistance. Sho found the work of a blacksmith rewarding, using his sweat and labor to make something so simple and yet so necessary.

Pumyra's stomach became more and more round as the months went by, finding her wearing loose clothes by the oncoming of early spring. Gestation for a Thunderian woman was eleven months, during which her belly grew at a steady rate. By the time spring came around and construction of a new home began, and the demolition of the Tower of Omens ended, she was well heavy with cub and restricted to light duties. Siberias proved a constant comfort along with Kyranna, whose rudimentary skills had served her well in the role of Royal Nurse. Siberias's experience helped prepare the Lion female to be a capable midwife, and the two women had formed a fast friendship.

Lion-O, day by day, grew more comfortable in his position as both Lord of the ThunderCats and King of Thundera. He listened to the other ThunderCats, now also his Royal Advisors, with a more open ear than ever before. Lion-O was becoming more and more a king with each day that passed, leaving behind the childish tendencies he'd had as a glorified prince.

Cat's Lair, and New Thundera Colony, began to rise on the selected site once the warmer days began and the Tower was brought low. The main reactor from the former Lair had been discovered to be intact and the remaining rubble had been cleared away with Sho's megasmasher. From there, the quarried stone from the north helped lay the blocks for the Lair and for a new township for the Thunderians. The Western Berbils helped construct their new home as well as give instructions on how to grow their specialized trees.

Oswald Lisker found himself immersed in harvesting sulfur and giving the slightly mad old human Vargas the formula for gunpowder. At first he was wary, given the white haired Vargas' near-fanatical view on all things pyrotechnic. Within a week, though, he had grasped how to make gunpowder and Lisker had taught the smiths of Watershed how to make steel once the smelter had been completed. Lighter and stronger swords were forged and he found himself explaining how to make exploding arrows before muskets. By the time winter began to thaw into spring, Watershed's defensive perimeter was shaping up, though at nowhere near the pace needed to fend off a coming assault. The making of muskets was slow work at first. Though production began to increase during the winter months, the long-barrelled weapons simply could not be churned out fast enough for a viable force of them to be assembled.

Food, at least, had not been as much of a problem as he'd feared. The Clutch had not demanded overly much of foodstuffs and water, mostly finished products and jewels. Lisker found himself puzzled over that. If their intent had been to drain Watershed completely dry, taking all of the food would have gone a long way toward that. Day by day, he pondered more on exactly who had hired them and why, or if anyone had at all and he was overreacting along with Mayor Gil and Dendel. Regardless, he continued to help strengthen Watershed's defenses in the event he was not.

Despite all of it, though, Lisker knew that his direct involvement would be necessary. What people about town were calling the "Bug-Man" would have to make another appearance.

Maria found herself spending rather a lot of time with the boy William during his convalescence. She found him to be charming and likeable, one with a naturally sunny disposition. He taught her the game of chess, in which she was wholly absorbed while Lisker busied himself with preparing Watershed for battle. Lisker had smiled broadly at her when she told him of the game, and encouraged her to learn of it. He had called it the game of kings, and had offered to play it with her once the matter of the Clutch was settled.

Maria was glad that the preparations kept him so enveloped, despite the fact that it meant they spent less time alone. It kept him from training to fight the other Guyver again, and she hoped it might force all thoughts of a rematch so far from his mind that he would not pursue it. She still recalled the look on his face, nearly obsessive, when he had made the still-unused punching post.

Even with the amount of effort he put into the task, Lisker still found time to be with her, both emotionally and physically. The physical aspect of their love was not often realized, but the time between merely made the experiences all the sweeter. He went out of his way, even when exhausted, to show that he was devoted to her. When she was not tending to William, she completed the work she had planned on the jacket he had given her when they first shared a living space. She kept it veiled in their home, and had told Lisker in no uncertain terms that it would not be revealed until Watershed was safe from the Clutch's masters. Once he saw it... Maria found herself imagining that from time to time when she ended up sleeping alone. It did, contrary to what she had been taught among her fellow Wollos, beat knitting.

Verona kept as close a watch on Watershed as she could, knowing that she could not sneak spies into the town unnoticed until the merchants came again. For a time, she had thought that hope lost until runners from Watershed had been sent along the roads to proclaim the town open for business once more. The growing defences about the town served to reinforce her nebulous belief that Lisker was a threat. When the days began to warm, she sent Maidens dressed as spies to report on what they saw. Natalie was not among them, and the reports she heard did not ring entirely true.

Meanwhile, high above Third Earth, a lone satellite broke orbit after retrieving all the data it could. It merged into the hyperdrive unit which bore it there and laid in a course to rendevouz with the Warhammer at a predetermined point in space.

The forces of good and evil make ready to clash once more. What is Ratar-O's plot? What evils from Second Earth will he unleash before he attains his ultimate goal? All this and more in the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	4. Predtor and Prey, Part One

Eye of the Storm

Episode Four

_This place is starting to shape up,_ Pumyra thought as she entered the new Medical Wing of the under-construction Cat's Lair. She winced slightly as the cub within her kicked yet again, pressing her hand against her rotund stomach. She waddled through the doorway, hiding the grimace as best she was able. All of the overhead lights were on, she noted with satisfaction as she made her way through the rows of beds. The Medical Wing and, as such, the maternity ward, had been among the areas of the new Cat's Lair to be completed first. She had put it to Lion-O, rather succinctly in her view, that one of the first things growing populations did were to both expand and injure themselves. The injuries which had come through first the first-aid tent and the Medical Wing had been thankfully minor. As for the part about women with cub, there had been none yet but she had a strong feeling that would change before long. As such, this part of the new Cat's Lair was the first in all New Thundera Colony to receive power from the excavated reactor.

Most of the more technical equipment had yet to be brought in, aside from the data terminals and her samples of G-Cells. Pumyra had been adamant about them being placed into a permanent form of storage ASAP, seeing as how harvesting more would be more than a little difficult.

"Pumyra!" Siberias exclaimed once he turned from the data terminal on his desk to catch sight of her. "You shouldn't be up and about..."

"Save it," she groused. "I have to do something aroud here."

"Not in your condition you don't," Siberias replied as he rushed to her side. Kyranna appeared seemingly from nowhere to catch her other side. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep still?"

"A short walk won't harm anything," she said, somewhat resenting the attention. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

"No, you are _very_ pregnant, and not long from giving birth. You know as well as I that you should remain in bed until it is time!"

"It's not time yet!" she snapped. "Besides, I need to do something useful!"

"If you mean the G-Cells, forget it," Siberias said in his always-even voice. "They are preserved, and they can wait."

"I neeed _something_ to do!" she snapped before reigning herself in. "I mean, I can't stay cooped up all the time..."

"Pumyra, sweetheart, I know," Kyranna said soothingly. "But you have to rest. You can't push yourself..."

"Better than Bengali hovering over me. He's been doing that for weeks!"

"He is merely a concerned father," Siberias explained as he deftly steered Pumyra to a bed. "Trust us, Pumyra, just rest and relax. Young Darin, like all infants, will arrive on his own timetable. You'll know when the moment he does."

"There's..."

"None of that!" Siberias said in a tone that would brook no arguement. "You will take rest on that bed, or I will secure you down with medical tape myself!" He smiled softly at her. "Technically, I outrank you."

"That's dirty pool," Pumyra said, relenting at last as she let Kyranna ease her onto the cushioned bed.

"From here until your delivery, I hereby confine you to that bed," Siberias said in his best Professor tone. "I'll make a note of it to Lion-O as well. Face it, you're stuck there until Darin makes his grand debut. My authority."

"Meanie," Pumyra said, knowing he was right.

"We have to be sometimes."

"I know. Alright, I'll stay here."

"How is it?" Panthro asked as he traversed the stone stairs which had been hastily carved to replace the rope ladders in the lowest reaches of Cat's Lair. The thundrillium generator from the first Lair dominated the main space in the artificial cavern which had been carved to house the immense machine.

"Given that the only major facility it's powering is the Lair's medical wing, the reactor's in good shape," Tygra replied from his station at the base of the immense crystalline structure. "Total power demand is only one fiftieth of the original Lair. I haven't picked up any anomalies so far."

"Just how much can this reactor power?" Panthro asked as he came alongside Tygra in the somewhat dim depths of the new Cat's Lair.

"The entire colony plus room to spare," Tygra replied, wiping a forearm across his brow. "We designed it for if others found their way here, after all."

"True. Still, I can't help but think we're gonna need a bigger one soon."

"I know, but building a larger reactor will take time which is somewhat scarce at present."

"No one said rebuilding a society on a new world was easy."

"In our recorded history, no one's tried it at all."

"A major first for Thunderians, huh?"

"That's an understatement," Tygra replied as he stepped back from the reactor. "All told, we're on track."

"Good to hear. Development topside's really coming along. The foodfruit trees are growing nicely."

"That'll be a huge help next winter. All of the rations were eaten in the last one."

"Won't see me complaining. Damn nasty things."

"At least those Mutant supplies sustained us," Tygra reminded Panthro as they neared the stairs.

"They still tasted like ass."

"Is that the voice of experience?" Tygra asked lightly.

"Wha... Damnit, Tygra!"

"You left yourself wide open for that one."

"You've gotten a little snide in your old age."

"Old?"

"You left yourself wide open for _that_ one."

Friends since cubhood, the two left the reactor chamber of Cat's Lair, laughing at their own remarks.

The Rat-Star came to a full stop in the endless sea of stars in the expanse of space just outside the Sol System. Ratar-O glared at the viewscreen which showed the system, notably at the blue-green world which was the third out from the system's core star. Two Simians occupied the helm stations at the fore of the ship, a Scavenger manning the science station.

"The other ship is nearing the docking bay," the Simian on the right called out. "Docking procedures initiated."

"Escort him to my ready room," Ratar-O said curtly before nodding to Meliz. The two stepped to the door set in the rear of the Bridge.

The ready room was well furnished, unlike other areas of the Rat-Star, or even the Warhammer. The seats boasted thick cushions, walls done in false wood paneling. The entire area was designed for comfort and relaxation. The Rat-Star's ready room was the only spot aboard any of Ratar-O's ships which acknowledged a need for comfort beyond the basics. The two waited for several minutes until the door chime sounded.

"Enter!" Ratar-O called out.

"Nice place," the bald human said as he cast an appreciative eye on the surroundings. His frame was thick and muscular beneath a beige outfit bearing many pockets. His black boots gleamed in the lights of the ready room. His face was strong and angular, a thin moustache drooping just below his thin lips. "To what do I owe the honor of being summoned here?" The man's voice was loud to the point of being gregarious, though the glint of cunning in his near-black eyes showed his predatory heart, particulary the eye behind the monocle he wore on his right.

"Your reputation for starters, Safari Joe," Ratar-O replied as the human took a seat opposite him. "Or rather, the serious hit it's taken recently." Joe's eyes narrowed at the verbal barb, indignant rage seething within them.

"If you've called me out here just to insult me..."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Ratar-O replied. "You just didn't let me finish. I want to offer you a chance to remove the tarnish on your otherwise stellar record. After all, you _are_ the greatest big-game hunter ever to live. Or so I'm told." He kept his tone earnest, without a hint of condescencion.

"The greatest," Safari Joe repeated before blowing out a frustrated sigh and shaking his head in disgust. "At least I was once."

"The ThunderCats, I hear, had something to do with putting the kibosh on that record of yours."

"You could say that... hey, how do _you_ know about that?!"

"I have eyes and ears in more than a few places. I know, for instance, that you had some very rich clients at one time. You'd charge an exorbitant fee for leading a small party on a hunt for various rare and, not to put too fine a point on it, forbidden game. I even know," Ratar-O continued, leaning forward and whispering in a conspiritorial voice, "that some of their prey walked on two legs rather than four. Or six. Or eight. You get my meaning."

"Are..."

"No, this isn't about blackmail, either," Ratar-O snapped. "As I said, I want to restore your reputation, by giving you the chance and the equipment you'll need to take on the only prey which ever escaped you."

"I almost had 'em," Safari Joe snarled. "That Lion-O got lucky. They _all_ got lucky."

"They won't get lucky again, will they?"

"What's in this for you?" the human asked, suddenly wary.

"Nothing much," Ratar-O said, leaning back and lacing his fingers together in front of his chest. "I've always heard how... _stimulating_... the illegal hunts you led were. As we speak, my men are installing a cloak on your ship."  
"You've got one of those?!"

"And it's yours to use on this hunt, provided you accept. Also, I'm willing to pay for each successful bag. Ten thousand credits live, five thousand dead. Either way, you stand to make quite a pile of money, aside from having that nasty black mark on you removed."

"That'll show those soft bastards," the human said, "that'll show 'em who's the best hunter. This'll put me back on top!"

"My assistance doesn't end there, my friend," Ratar-O said. "You'll be facing even more ThunderCats than the last time. I've compiled quite the database on them." He snapped his fingers, signalling the Rat-Star's computer to open the recess in the left wall of the ready room. The robot emerged, jet-black metal gleaming in the artificial lighting. Its torso was ovoid, with multiple limbs poised and ready with a deadly array of bladed and beam weapons. The head was directly atop, without the bother of a neck, three inverted crimson triangles serving as its optics. Its base was flat, supported by treads on either side. The machine rolled into the ready room before the torso rose up from the base and the middle two arms extended clawed forearms and hands.

"Son of a bitch," Safari Joe whispered at the sight. "What is it?"

"Give it whatever name you like," Ratar-O said. "This robot will aid you in your hunt. Its databanks are loaded with intel about the ThunderCats you faced before, along with the new recruits. It's also capable of assisting you directly with hunts."

"Packhorse," Safari Joe said, addressing the machine.

"Acknowledged," the robot said in reply. "Unit designation is now Packhorse. Shall I provide the intel briefing?"

"Uh... Not now."

"Acknowledged."

"So," Ratar-O said, "are you up to it?"

"Just let me at 'em!"

"_That's _what I wanted to hear! I look forward to the hunt, Safari Joe." The human rose and took his leave, the robot now named Packhorse rolling behind on its treads. "Oh, by the way, there's one target I'm willing to pay rather handsomely for. However, he is the most dangerous. Packhorse will fill you in." Safari Joe nodded once before exiting with the robot. "Status?" he asked Meliz.

"Installation of the cloak will be finished within the hour," Meliz replied.

"Good. So, son, what do you think of his chances?"

"Given the intel the Spy Star managed to gain, he doesn't have a chance to catch them all."

"You're referring to that Guyver creature?"

"Precisely."

"It doesn't matter." Ratar-O opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out two iron flasks and a bottle of prime kirgash. "It's not like I expect him to survive anyhow."

"Which is why you offered such a reward."

"Precisely," he said, imitating his son's tone. "Then, I'm sure you've figured out why I went to the trouble of bringing that idiot here?"

"You plan to use him as a distraction," Meliz said evenly as he accepted the iron flask from Ratar-O's outstretched hand. "He will keep the Thunderian colony occupied while we make planetfall."

"Oh, _very_ good. So long as he keeps their eyes on the ground, our approach will go undetected for as long as possible."

"That robot will also have an uplink to the Warhammer, I assume?"

"Have I ever told you that I'm proud of you?"

"More than once, father."

"There's a reason for that. You'll make a fine commander one day."

"Thank you."

Safari Joe took a seat behind the main control console of his ship, letting the winking lights of the viewscreen and instrument panels wash over him. He had never met the strange being which called himself Ratar-O before, but his offer was impossible to turn down. He leaned back in the overstuffed cushioning as his vessel detached from the Rat-Star with a cruel grin twisting his lips.

The humiliation of it still stung, not only being beaten at his own game but actually being forced to pretend to forsake hunting. The dark one, Panthro, had altered Mule's programming to prevent him from resuming his career. He had promptly destroyed the robot afterward, thinking that the problem of his only loss had been solved.

But, the ThunderCats had been determined to humiliate him.

Once in orbit, and before he could turn his rifle against his former cybernetic assistant, Mule had accessed subspace communication channels and had broadcast his defeat on every clandestine frequency to every former and potential client and illegal hunting service in his computer's main memory. It had been, until now, the final blow to his reputation as a game hunter. None of the men whom he'd once led into the wildlands of primitive worlds in search of elusive game and bragging rights would so much as return his calls. He had been shunned by society, by his fellow gentlemen, and cast into the cold of banishment. Safari Joe found himself turning to drink, drowning his sorrows in bottle after bottle of progressively cheaper scotch as his capital dwindled.

But, there would be no more of that. The old fire burned in a way it never had before after hearing Ratar-O's offer. He would take it all back, his name, his reputation, his prestige. All of it.

And, as he returned triumphant into proper society, he would offer Lion-O's severed head as proof that he still had it.

"Packhorse," he said, motioning the robot to wheel itself next to his seat, "display prey data."  
"Acknowledged," the machine rumbled in its deep synthetic voice. "Displaying data on ThunderCat prey: Lion-O..."

"Skip him," Safari Joe snapped, calling up his own files from the interface near his right hand. "Begin display with this Bengali fellow."

"Sir..."

"No back-talk, you," Safari Joe growled. "I faced Lion-O and his kitty pals before. I need data on those I haven't hunted before, not the ones I had caged."

"Acknowledged," Packhorse agreed. His three optics shimmered as the image of a white Tyger appeared on the main viewscreen. "ThunderCat prey: Bengali. Occupation: Blacksmith. Weapons: Hammer of Thundera." At this, the hammer on the hip of the image was highlighted. "Weapon is capable of firing energy bursts capable of stunning most adult humanoids. Subject also carries a sledge hammer on his back, which is capable of releasing disruptive energy on contact with hard surfaces." The long hammer on the image's back spun into view, data readouts scrolling alongside it. "Bengali is known to have an aggressive temper, and can be quick to anger under proper circumstances."

"A hothead," Safari Joe mused.

"ThunderCat prey: Pumyra." The image changed to a svelte female. "Occupation: Healer. Weapon: Belt which doubles as a sling with various projectiles."

"Doesn't look like much."

"Prey is, according to my data, near to birthing a child and will be heavily protected."

"No point in bagging a pregger," he said. "Got to have future generations to kill. Next."

"ThunderCat prey: Lynx-O."

"Are you _shitting_ me?!" he asked as the image of an old, yet still-fit, man appeared. "A bloody codger?!"

"Occupation: Tactical specialist. Weapon: Light Disk worn on right arm. Prey's advanced age and lack of sight are not detrimental to combat performance. Subject is a master of Thunderian neuro-pressure techniques, which can incapacitate any opponent. Though it is not confirmed, it is believed these techniques can be fatal."

"Pffftt... My ruddy arse. Next!"

"ThunderCat Prey: Kyranna." A female member of the Lion clan appeared on the main screen, her form willowy beneath the red-on-black outfit she wore. "Occupation: Apprentice Healer. Subject possesses no paranormal capabilities. Subject is also new to the role of ThunderCat, and as such is inexperienced in battle."

"Next." _Blimey, I'm already bored..._

"ThunderCat Prey: Torr. Occupation: Agricultural Specialist."

"A ruddy farmer..."

"Subject is mate to Kyranna. Subject is armed with a charged scythe, with which he is rather skilled." The image of the wicked-looking weapon appeared next to the image of Torr. "Subject is also inexperienced in combat."

"Sounds promising after all. Next."

"ThunderCat Prey: Laheela."

"Easy on the eyes, this one."

"Occupation: Warrior. Subject employs twin projectile weapons as her primary method of offense. Said weapons are highly effective at both short and medium range."

"Pistol-packin' mama. I like it!"

"ThunderCat Prey: Myrlha. Occupation: Warrior. Subject's experience as a former dancer endows her with various evasive techniques. Primary weapon is an energized ribbon, with which subject can deliver debilitating electrical shocks. When a stable current is passed through the material, said ribbon can easily slice through most non-metallic substances."

"One thing about these ThunderCat women," Safari Joe mused, "they can be fiercer than the men."

"ThunderCat Prey: Siberias. Occupation: Healer."

"Another bloody doctor... And another damned codger. Skip it!"

"Acknowledged."

"So," he said as he leaned back into his seat, "what's the deal with that special one I was told to look out for?"

"Human Prey: Sho Fukamachi." The image of a young human appeared on the main viewscreenm his frame tightly muscled beneath the black tunic and blue pants he wore.

"I should really reconsider this," Safari Joe sighed. "What's the challenge?"

"Subject," Packhorse continued, "has the ability to transform into a creature known as the Guyver, an enhanced being with extraordinary powers and abilities." Safari Joe listened as Packhorse detailed the weapons and abilities the young man had in his transformed state, his stomach finding itself in the vicinity of his feet.

"Bloody hell..." he managed once the robot had finished.

"You did ask where the challenge was," it said in an even, yet somehow snide, tone.

"I guess I got my answer. That whelp's a killing machine!"

"But, only in his Guyver form," Packhorse provided.

"Yes..." Safari Joe said at length. "While human, he's as vulnerable as anyone else. What's the offer on this one?"

"One million alive. Seventy thousand dead."

"I think I have a plan, that I do," Safari Joe said, a wicked gleam of avarice in his eyes. "Oh, yes. How long until we reach Third Earth?"

"Upon engaging hyper-spatial drives, we will reach Third Earth in twenty hours." Packhorse had no data concerning the Warhammer's warp drive, and would not have divulged it even if the machine did. Nor would it divulge the fact that it maintained a covert subspace link with said Mutant ship. Lastly, it would not alert its new master to the fact that his chances for survival were far less than optimal. Though the human did not know it, he was nothing more than another piece on the board.

"Alert me when we're about to make planetfall. I've some preparations to make."

"Acknowledged."

Cartography duty. It was as close to a day off as Cheetara had come since construction of the colony had commenced. It was, depite its importance, a chance to relax so far as those who drew it were concerned. Exploring and mapping new areas of the continent was all well and good, but the minimal effort it required made for a welcome respite from quarrying, hauling, building, and the like. Two hundred Thunderians and nearly half as many Berbils were working as hard as they were able to build this new home, aside from those establishing a perennial food source and those hunting new meat until said source was fully established. In a major break from time-honored tradition, some men went on the hunts as well. Nowhere was it said that Thunderian males were forbidden to hunt, and some of the most skilled of that craft had been men, but women had upheld the role for centuries.

She ran through the grasslands south of the new colony, taking in the sights as only she could. It was a chance to let her mind wander, to shake off the labors of building a new home for just a short while. Also, it let her forget the obligations being more or less betrothed to Lion-O brought.

She had told him none of this, but the thoughts still worried her from time to time. Until they were formally joined, they were only lovers. If they conceived a child, said cub had to be born while in wedlock, or the ranks of succession would not allow him to attain the throne. She did not want her first child to be treated as a bastard, and as such had been secretly relieved that the constant workload had put such a damper on their intimate relationship. Lion-O, sadly, knew so little of the nuances of life for the Nobility, and would have no opportunity to learn anytime soon. Given the way he was, he would not take well to some of it.

She had no problems with the thought of becoming his mate, and therefore his queen, but she still had no real idea if he was ready to take their relationship to that level of committment. He had so much to learn about actually being a king that she sometimes worried he would not be able to be a good husband, or father.

_That's not always relevant_, she told herself as the grasslands blurred past. Cheetara hated the thought of dooming the first love she'd had since Cougrix to the vagaries of Thunderian politics and traditions, no matter how vital they might be to society as a whole. She'd lost one love to torture, she did not want to lose another to necessity no matter how vital it might be.

_Maybe I shouldn't have taken that step with him_, she thought ruefully. _Maybe I shouldn't have taken him to my bed. That, at least, would have kept me from thinking these thoughts._

She did not want to be a trophy, or an heir-factory. What woman would? For the first time, she was having doubts about having become his lover, even though such was irrelevant.

Not to mention that Panthro would get on their cases eventually. The Panther was a stickler for tradition, and she had sensed that he had something to say on their relationship for awhile, now. In the beginning he had wholeheartedly approved, but that had been before discovering so many of their countrymen enslaved by the former Mutant Army and having become a viable race again.

_If I break it off,_ she thought, _I'd crush him. Not to mention myself. It would be as though I used him. Gah, why do these things have to so damned complicated?_

Absorbed as she was in thought, Cheetara failed to notice the slight rise in the earth before her until she stepped on it. The wall of concussive force utterly destroyed her stride, sending her ass-over-teakettle across the soft grass as the soil impacted her again and again and again. Blackness claimed her before she skidded to a halt.

Cartography duty. It wasn't Sho's favorite thing, but it did allow him a chance to take in the sights of Third Earth, and note as many differences between what he saw and what he could remember. He wondered, as the spaceboard he had learned how to operate glided above the fragrant earth between stands of mighty trees, why practically nothing of this nation still stood. Had the battle against Kronos been truly that intense? He shook his head, clearing it of ruminations about the past he'd lost. That was then, and he had the here and now to focus on.

He had Myrlha to focus on.

On switching his train of thought to those tracks, a gentle warmth flowed through his chest. They shared a tent, yet their relationship had made only slow progress on the physical front. Neither minded overmuch, not wanting to rush things between them. It was even true on the surface, but the underlying reason was that after a day of work building the new colony they were both too damn tired for anything other than a gentle kiss and a light meal before bedding down for the night. Things had settled into a comfortable rhythm, and both were content for the time being. Sho, for his part, looked forward to when they took things another step. And another. And another, until...

_Down boy,_ he chided himself as he steered between two thick trunks. He could ill afford to lose his concentration while on a spaceboard, as his earlier attempts to learn the skill had taught him.

Sho had forgone his cloak, electing to save that particular accessory for special occaisions. His plain blue tunic and midnight pants outlined hard musculature developed over the months of backbreaking work in the quarry and in molding the harvested stone into a new Cat's Lair and homes for the people he was coming to call his own countrymen, despite the obvious difference in appearance. The boots he wore were the same shade of crimson as the fingerless gloves which adorned his hands and the amulet which bore his own insignia of a Vanguard adorned his neck. He had not transformed since the day they had recovered the reactor from the ruins of the original Lair, clearing the rubble from beneath with the megasmasher. Sho found he didn't much miss the bio-booster armor while working harder than he ever had mining Thundrillium. Though his formal training had yet to begin, Panthro was still his sensei and had made it absolutely clear that the Guyver had best not see the light of day unless he found himself in a life or death scenario and even then only if there was no other option available.

_"SHO!"_

The agonized shriek nearly spilled him from the spaceboard. His heart beat somewhere around his throat as he whipped his head about for the source of the cry. The torment in that one word distorted the voice, and it was a moment before he could place a face to it.

Cheetara.

It came again, and Sho very nearly summoned the Guyver. She sounded like she had just endured the torment of the damned, the pain in her voice so raw. He steered the antigrav board to his right, where he had finally pinpointed her location. Thick brambles tangled in his path, forcing him to go higher into the limbs of several trees.

_What the hell is she doing here?_ he asked himself as one fact came to him belatedly. They had split up to map out different areas of the southern veldt, she heading east and him taking the west. What could have made her double back?

"Where are you?!" he shouted, still unable to see her after several tense moments. A pain-wracked scream was his only reply, sounding from a narrow dip in the earth several meters ahead. Sho leaned forward, accellerating the spaceboard and angling down to find...

"What the fuck?" A tiny metal box was nestled into the grass, a grated hole atop it which was obviously a speaker. Before he could bring the board to a complete stop, a puff of air to his left sounded. It was too little warning.

The impact to his ribs stunned him and knocked him off of the spaceboard. Small pincers dug into his flesh and electricity coursed through his muscles. Sho's body went instantly rigid as the current did its work and the abyss of unconsciousness claimed him.

"Wakey wakey." The voice seemed to come through thick gauze. He mumbled something, his mind slow and fogged. "Time to get up." The care in those words seemed false, somehow, mocking. Sho tried to gather his scattered thoughts, piece together the fragmented images of... "GET YOUR ASS UP!" The bellowed command, along with the savage impact in his abdomen which drove the breath from his lungs, snatched him from the hazy comfort of half-sleep and into a nightmare.

Sho coughed as the pain radiated out from his stomach in nauseating waves. He forced himself to look up at his tormentor, pumping every ounce of indignant fury into his eyes as he prepared to spring.

"Oh, you'd love to take a shot at me, I'd think," the bald human said, idly fingering the round shaft of the strange rifle Sho'd been buttstroked with. "You're gonna have some problems with that, Sho."

Ice filled his heart at the mention of his own name. How did this man know it?

_Oh, balls..._

He finally registered the presence of shackles on his wrists, keeping them securely behind him. Metal straps about his upper and lower legs kept them pinned to the hard metal surface he sat on.

"Before you transform," the stranger said as he ran a finger over his thin moustache, "you might want to get a peek behind you." Sho twisted as much as the metal band about his midsection would allow, and was both disheartened and unsurprised at the glimpse of black-spotted blonde hair that greeted the corner of his eye.

"If you've hurt her..."

"There's not a single damn thing you can do about it, Guyver."

_Just how much does this bastard know?!_

"You _could_ change, of course," he went on in the most half-assed attempt at an Austrailian accent Sho had ever heard. "Just one word, and I'm a dead man. But," he leaned in closer, his breath enough to make a maggot gag in Sho's opinion, "I won't be the only corpse you leave behind."

"So where are we?" Sho glared up at him, hoping to keep him talking. He didn't expect an honest answer, but perhaps he could trip his captor up.

"Cheetara," he said instead, walking languidly about to Sho's back. "Seems you're my guest again, eh?"

"Not by choice," she spat, "and I see you haven't learned the first thing about hospitality."

"That tongue's as sharp as ever," he replied. He heard a vicious slap ring out, followed by a pained grunt from Cheetara.

"Leave her alone!"

"Maybe I should cut it out this time?" Sho heard rustling behind him, picturing despite himself their captor holding Cheetara roughly by the chin. The sound of a blade being unsheathed sounded loud as a gunshot. "Tempting, but I want as many of you cats alive as possible. Only one's gonna die, and I don't think you need me to say who."

Cheetara glared daggers at Safari Joe, a human she'd hoped never to meet again. Her mouth was filled with the coppery tang of blood from the backhand she'd just received, a trickle flowing from the corner of her lips. Safari Joe said no more, merely resheathing the thin knife in his boot and taking his leave. Only when he was gone did she allow her shoulders to slump. The spill she'd taken while running had left her sore and scraped, her leotard ripped in places on her stomach and legs. She was moderately grateful that her breasts remained covered. Thunderian attitudes toward nudity notwithstanding, she hated the thought of them exposed to trash like him.

"I think it's safe to assume you've met him before," Sho said from behind.

"And I don't like him any more than I did then." She strained briefly, only to confirm that neither of them were going anywhere of their own volition.

"Are you okay?"

"I've been better," she groused. "Why's he come back? I don't like this one bit."

"Not that you're unpleasant company," Sho replied, fidgeting slightly and aggravating a scrape on her back, "but I'm none too fond of being chained to someone, either." She chuckled a little at his wit. "What's his name, anyway?"

"Safari Joe. He's an illegal game hunter."

"Corny name, a poacher, and a kidnapper. That's the Douchebag Triple Crown, if ever I've seen it. Well, you guys beat him before..."

"About that," she said, interrupting his hopeful words. "We got lucky last time."

"... shit..."

"He got all of us, and almost got Lion-O, too. If Snarf hadn't launched a bucket at his head, we'd all be displays in a trophy room on some planet or other."

"Well, there's more of us this time around. They'll come for us. Man, I never thought I'd be saying something like that."

"You can't be the one to heroically charge to the rescue every time." She breathed in, noted that the trickle of blood which had reached her chin was now dry, and considered her next words carefully. She knew what Sho's reaction would be. "Sho, I need you to listen to me."

"I can manage that."

"If Safari Joe manages a repeat of what happened the last time he was here, you have to transform." Silence was her only answer for several seconds.

"Cheetara," Sho began, "have you taken a giant leap away from your good senses?!" His voice was high, frightened at the notion of what she'd just said.

"I know you don't want to hear this, and I don't want to say it."

"You can't be giving..."

"Sho, shut up and listen to me!" She breathed deeply for a few seconds before continuing. "I'm not writing off the chance of a rescue, and I hope that's how it goes, but you've never faced anyone like Safari Joe before. In your Guyver form he won't be a match for you. I'm only putting this as a final option."

"Okay..."

"The more of us are captured, the fewer of us will be out there to keep Lion-O safe. When he said only one of us would die, Lion-O the one he was referring to. Sho, we cannot let that happen."

"The others will come for us," he said, his voice hard as stone. "Count on it."

"I am, Sho. Belive me, I am." Cheetara forced herself to relax, to dull the ache from her assault. She hoped for all she was worth that they would be pulled from this nightmare trap, but had to admit that it might not happen this time. Safari Joe, ridiculous name notwithstanding, was extremely good at what he did. She had to admit to the possibility of not surviving her captivity here, and hated the thought that her life might have to be taken by someone she called a friend in order to save the most important man in her people's future.

That, she knew, was one of the risks that came with the title of ThunderCat. Cheetara only hoped, if worse came to worst, that the young man would one day be able to forgive himself.

The sun began its descent from its apogee in the pale blue sky, and Lion-O found himself worried. The unfinished control center of the new Cat's Lair had just been interfaced into the reactor and the available systems were just now coming online. He looked about the ovoid chamber, seeing bank after bank of open sockets awaiting the sensor relays Panthro had just finished devising from the Mutant warships they had captured after the battle. Coils of cable dotted the floorspace with Berbils and Thunderians working in tandem to ready the relevant systems for full installation. The space was a constant hum of noise which had grown used to over the past several weeks.

"The Braille Board is functioning at only forty percent of capacity," Lynx-O said from his position at the rear of the raised level of flooring near the rear exit to the room. "However, that is slightly better than projected."

Lion-O only nodded, worry chewing at his guts. He had not felt any urgent summons from the Eye of Thundera, and that had him somewhat concerned. He had said nothing of this to anyone, but his connection to the Eye, and the Sword of Omens, had felt odd, sluggish of late. He kept telling himself that it was the constant workload and the resultant demands it required. He was simply overdoing it.

"Any word from Cheetara or Sho?"

"None, I am afraid."

_I'm getting that way myself,_ he thought. Cheetara, at least, should have come back nearly two hours ago.

"Maybe they're taking their time," Panthro suggested from his spot on the floor where he did his best to integrate Mutant tech with Thunderian. WilyKat knelt to his left, and shot a glance at Lion-O.

"She wouldn't be the first."

_I should start wearing the Sword again,_ Lion-O thought ruefully, remembering that he left it in its stand in the new Sword Chamber. "We should look for them."

"You think something's wrong?" Tygra asked from his station to Lion-O's right.

"Call it a hunch," Lion-O said wearily. _The Eye hasn't called me, they're fine. I hope..._

"Do you want us to go looking for them?" Tygra asked.

"Yes. Panthro, take Torr and the ThunderTank. Tygra, you and Laheela take the HoverCats." Panthro, during the long winter, had constructed a second HoverCat to make up for it being a one-passenger vehicle. It had been his first experiment in melding Thunderian and Mutant technology, and had turned out remarkably well. "Maybe it's nothing, and I'm overreacting."

It stood rooted in place, scanning the alien environs with a patience that no organic being could come close to. Packhorse took in all sensor data and crunched the inputs into a cohesive stream of raw logic. The low rumble was coming nearer, and was mechanical in nature. The sound reached appropriate decibles and the machine tracked its location. Active sensors went online.

SCANNING...

TARGET VEHICLE: THUNDERTANK

SCANNING...

TWO BIOFORMS DETECTED

Packhorse waited, enhancing its optical sensors to maximum.

THERMOGRAPH ENGAGED...

TWO THUNDERCAT TARGETS PRESENT...

IDENT POSITIVE

TARGET PANTHRO

TARGET TORR

BEGIN WEAPONS ANALYSIS...

WEAPONS CONFORM TO KNOWN DATA

Packhorse eased back from the site where the human Sho had been captured. Options scaled through its visual field, likely chances for success gagued, and a plan was settled on in mere seconds.

Twilight was heavy upon the skies as Panthro guided the ThunderTank to Sho's last known position. He had long since come to the conclusion that Sho and Cheetara were in dire trouble. Nothing else could have kept them from reporting in as scheduled. Anything which could catch Cheetara, or overpower Sho, had to be Bad News.

As such, he kept his head on a swivel as the ThunderTank neared the spot where Sho's transponder signal had vanished.

"You sure they're not just off doing the horizontal bop?" Torr asked from the front passenger seat.

"Positive," he said in reply.

"Just saying," Torr replied. "When Kyranna and I first got together, getting around her father was..."

"Shut up. Now."

"Ease off," Torr said, his hands raised in placation. "I'm just looking at all the options."

"All the wrong ones," Panthro snapped.

"Who's to say?" Torr asked as he adjusted the reduced length of the scythe on his back. "Kings and Queens are known to have lovers..." The glare Panthro shot him then cut Torr short.

"Listen, you," he snarled, "Cheetara and Sho are _not_ an item. Something has gone terribly wrong here, and we've gotta find out what!"

"Well, I don't... Wait, there's a spaceboard up ahead." The two fell into silence as they neared the shallow dip in the earth. A spaceboard was nose-first in the dirt.

"Panthro," Torr began, "forget anything else I said. That human got kidnapped."

"Brilliant," Panthro snarled as the ThunderTank came to a halt. The night was still, aside from the tiny points of light which winked in and out of existence courtesy of insects Third Earthers called fireflies. Sho's scent was heavy in the air, yet neither ThunderCat could smell blood. Whoever had taken him had managed to do so without seriously injuring the human.

"Okay," Torr said from his right, "we know it's not Mutants, or Lunattaks, so who the hell got them?"

"That's what we're here to find out. I'm not picking up another scent, though. You?" Any trace of irritation with the new ThunderCat evaporated as the gravity of the situation began to settle in.

"Not a one," Torr said in reply. "Okay, we know that whoever took him down didn't give him a chance to change. That much is obvious."

"So, it was someone who knows his one real weakness. Someone with damn good intel... on..." Panthro trailed to a halt, a connection made. "That son of a bitch..."

"Who..."

All hell chose that precise moment to break loose.

At that moment, a rocket's thrusters fired and aimed the projectile at the ThunderTank. Both men leapt clear, panting heavily as the machine was hammered with an explosion. The ThunderTank itself lifted up, fire erupting from its vents as the machine which they had just left jumped straight up and then fell to earth with a deafening boom. Panthro and Torr dove for cover in the shallow depression as the heat of the flames made an attempt to bake their skins.

"That's it," Panthro growled as the ThunderTank burned, "he's a _dead man_!" As though in response, several angry red streaks of ion streams raked the soil just in front of them. The odor of scorched grass mingled with frying electronics from the ruined ThunderTank as the two retreated. Panthro nodded in the direction the suppressing fire had come from, Torr's eyes showing acknowledgment. Before either could make a move on their attacker there came a slight rustling noise from behind and the fibers of a thin net wrapped about them. The puff of air had been nearly drowned out by the roaring flames and the whipping cords, and weakness settled into their limbs instantly.

As he fell, Panthro cursed Safari Joe's name.

Thoughts of the nightmares came to Laheela unbidden, and she focused with all her will on HoverCat Two's controls to block it from her thoughts. Most nights she slept deeply, weary from laboring to build her people's new home. However, her nights were becoming plagued with horrid dreams that left her trembling, coated in chill sweat and fighting not to scream when she woke.

They always started as more memory than dream, always aboard the Ravager and so far away from any sort of civilization that she could scream and scream and...

_Focus!_ she reprimanded herself.

"Still no response to comm signals," Tygra's voice said from the console-mounted speaker.

"Deploying lights," Laheela responded, engaging the twin spotlights at the fore of the machine and casting twin pools of illumination into the growing darkness.

_That part of my life's done,_ she thought. Even so, what she had heard Lisker refer to as conditioned reflex was proving tough to break. She was known to keep her eyes downcast when in the presence of others, only realizing such when asked what she was feeling down about. Force of habit did not do this justice, and she was grateful she had not yet accidentally called anyone "Master". It had been a very near thing as well, she had almost called Lion-O that when he'd asked about the day's work in the new thundrillium mines.

_Everything's on track, Master..._

She did not want to imagine what the look on his face would have been. She still wondered how she had been able to hide her crushing embarrassment over the near-gaffe as well as she had.

"I've got something," she said when the small hole was bathed in her vehicle's searchlights. She angled beyond the blast point and noted the smashed grasses in a line leading away from it. "Some sort of landmine."

"Possibly a sonic device. I'm not picking up any sign of Thunderian remains." Laheela chose to be relieved over that.

"I'm thinking a non-lethal device. A stun mine of some kind." _That's it, girl, look on the sunny side. You can do that now._

"Panthro, come in." Static was the reply Tygra received. "We're still in communication range..."

The suspicion that Panthro and Torr had met with trouble became fact when the plasma burst impacted HoverCat One's turbofan and damage alerts went mad all across the board. The hover began to spin, yawing severely to port with the stench of scorched electronics filling his nose. Not designed for any great altitudes, the distance Tygra tumbled to the ground posed no danger. Experience and his own innate agility allowed him to land on his feet and regain enough equilibrium to dive out from under the falling craft. He saw Laheela aim her lights into the distance in an attempt to identify his attacker. Unfortunately, twin red bursts of light lanced into the night to shatter the searchlights before a third knocked out HoverCat Two's engine.

_I'm getting weak..._ Adrenaline was thinning in his blood far faster than normal, a sure sign of the presence of thundrainium in the immediate vicinity. _Why didn't the sensors pick it up?_ His whip was in his hand, prepared to coil about and conceal him from view when a harsh impact slammed into his wrist and knocked it clear. More hits landed, on his other wrist and both ankles just as all four hummed and snapped together. Tygra was forced into a ball, the manacles having magnetically locked together.

He saw Laheela had managed to bring HoverCat Two down safely, one of the twin pistols in her hands and sweeping about the moonless night. The weapon's report shattered the air as she laid down fire to try and flush out whoever had ambushed them. A strangled, and somehow familiar, cry of stunned pain sounded out. She'd landed a hit, but Tygra had no idea how effective it would be.

The burst of crimson light slammed home in Laheela's chest, sprawling her backward with a strangled cry and sending the gun spinning from her grip.

"Laheela!" he shouted from reflex, knowing she wouldn't hear. The flickering light of the burning vehicle behind him was just enough for him to see she was still breathing. A stun blast, then. Whoever was responsible wanted them alive, so it stood to reason that Cheetara and Sho were still in one piece as well. Tygra forced himself to remain calm, to cease useless struggling and conserve his strength. Logic had always served him well, and would do so once again.

"I should have known we hadn't seen the last of you, Safari Joe!" Tygra called out, hoping to rattle the hunter.

"You recognize quality work," the gregarious voice bellowed as the human strode into the crazed firelight. Blood trickled down his left sleeve, which his right hand was attempting to staunch. The rifle which had felled Laheela was slung on his broad back. "The bitch is a better shot than I thought. Just a flesh wound, mind you, but _damn_ does it hurt!" The human studied him briefly before removing his bloodied right hand to rummage in one of his breast pockets. "How did you know it was me?" he asked as he removed and then applied a bio-pack to the wound.

"I recognized your style of ambush," Tygra replied cooly.

"HAH! If it works, it works, I always say. Not even Cheetara's speed could let her outrun a skilled huntsman! As for that Guyver monster, brains over brawn, mate. Brains over brawn." Tygra relaxed just before Safari Joe's boot rammed into his midsection.

"We're not alone out here..."

"You mean good old Panthro and that Torr fella?" Despite himself, Tygra felt his heart sink at that. "By now, they're on their way to me ship. Nice and trussed, just like you." He unslung the rifle, spinning the cylnder from which the barrell protruded clockwise twice before aiming and firing four times at the prone Laheela. Each manacle snapped closed on impact with her limbs and, with a low hum, slid her wrists and ankles together to force her into the same posture Tygra held. Tygra held his tongue, not bothering with assurances that Safari Joe would never succeed. He was never one to waste words.

Also, he wasn't entirely certain that they could bring him down this time.

_Okay, Sho,_ he thought as he looked at the four ThunderCats who had been secured to flat panels along the wall by magnetic shackles, _if you're gonna come up with a brilliant plan to escape, without reducing your friend to her component molecules, now would be a really good time to do it!_

"I was wondering how he kept you from changing," Tygra, the only one of the four who as still awake, said. "I'd thought it was something like this."

"How did he know, though?" Sho asked in reply. "It's like he's got all the information on how to take us out."

"Just like last time," Tygra said with a frustrated sigh.

"How'd he spy on us without us knowing?"

"It's tough to detect someone spying on you from another star system," Cheetara replied. "He probably dispatched a satellite."

"Oh, that makes..." Sho's eyes widened. "No freakin' sense!"

"What?"

"I was thinking this was some kind of stronghold. You mean this is a space ship?!"

"What's so odd about that?"

"He's human!" Ideas, half-formed notions were whirling in his head, reaching for and out of the abyss of his past. "One thing I _do_ remember about Second Earth was that we hadn't left the planet. The farthest we ever got was the moon, and by the time Kronos took over people were starting to doubt we'd even gotten _that_ far!"

"It's not all that strange," Tygra said. "In our former corner of the galaxy, we Thunderians weren't the only feline-decended race."

"You're saying...?"

"It's not impossible for humans to have developed on planets other than Third Earth."

Sho shook his head as an errant thought raced through his brain, unconnected and horrible. _The Advents..._

"Stop it..." He glanced to Laheela, who was beginning to shake her head from side to side and twitch in her bonds. "No... I'll be good, I promise..."

"Laheela!" Cheetara exclaimed in an attempt to wake the other woman.

"Owww... Please... No more, for mercy's sake no _MOOOOORREEE!_"

"_LAHEELA!_" they shouted in unison. The Tygress snapped awake, her eyes wild and terrified, and the discovery of her predicament only compounded the stark fear that nearly radiated from her.

"What's all the racket for?" Torr asked from Tygra's left.

"Where are we? What happened?" Laheela asked, her voice high-pitched from terror.

"We all got ambushed and captured, that's what," Panthro replied. "Hey, you holdin' up over there?" Laheela shut her eyes, forcing herself to take deep breaths before appearing to regain her composure. Sho, for his part, had not yet had the chance to really get to know her, all he did know came from Myrlha. He could guess what the nightmare had been.

"Who's responsible for this?" she asked. The fear was gone from her voice, but not quite from her eyes.

"Safari Joe, that rat bastard," Panthro snarled. "Just _had_ to go and blow up my ThunderTank."

"HoverCat One's scrapped, as well," Tygra provided. "Two's just damaged."

"When did he get you?"

"We were looking for the two of you," Torr said. "Me an' Panthro were looking for Sho, Tygra and Laheela were scoutin' for you, Cheetara."

"Hey, we were pretty far apart. He couldn't have nailed all of you himself."

"Come to think on it," Panthro added, taking up Sho's line of logic, "I never actually _saw_ him there."

"I didn't see who was shooting at us," Torr said third. "Whoever this Joe guy is, he's not working alone."

"I got him," Laheela said. "I don't know how bad, but I sure didn't kill him." The tone in her words said the rest.

"You grazed his arm," Tygra replied to her.

"Say, I got a question for you, Sho."

"Why haven't I transformed and turned this place into a junkyard, something like that?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"I can't. Not with Cheetara tied to me like this."

"You gotta have room to change?" Sho couldn't see the puzzled look on his face, and was glad for it. Torr's question irritated him enough.

"The energy field that appears when he transforms," Tygra said by way of explanation.

"Oh. Well. That sucks."

_How did this guy lead all of them in a revolt, again?_ Sho asked himself.

"He's gotten almost half of us, Sho," Cheetara said evenly.

"Lion-O will find us," Sho replied, flexing his aching arms in their bonds.

Tygra caught the glance Cheetara shot him, and winced. She had suggested earlier that Sho summon the Guyver, apparently. A last resort, to be sure, but the human had no real idea just how ruthless a hunter Safari Joe was. The fact that Panthro and Torr were with them in this predicament attested to the skill of his unseen partner.

"Sho."

"Yeah?"

"If all else fails, bio-boost."

"I... I can't."

"Sho, I know what will happen if you change now," Tygra said, trying his hardest not to envision it. "I also know what will happen if Safari Joe gets the rest of the ThunderCats. We all do, and we all know what will happen if we lose Lion-O."

"He's already said he'll kill him," Cheetara added.

"We're more than Lion-O's advisors," Panthro put in. "We're more than his friends, more than the only family he's ever really known. We're also his last line of defense. If one of us has to lay down our life to ensure his safety, then that's what we'll do. Without hesitation."

"This isn't about my life," Sho said in a strained voice. "I'm not afraid to lay mine down, I've done it before. Kinda helps when you can pick it back up." His shoulders slumped, and Tygra did not envy the weight that had to be sitting on them. "You're asking me to sacrifice someone else, the first real friend I made on Third Earth."

"That friend," Cheetara said, her eyes pools of sadness, "is the one who first asked you to do this."

"What about Lion-O? What'll I do to him by killing you?"

"In time, he'll come to accept what had to be done. This is one of the risks that come with being named a ThunderCat. We all knew when we accepted."

"It's not like it has to be right now," Laheela said, "there's still eight more ThunderCats out there, and by now they have to know something's gone wrong."

"Lady's got a point," Torr said, looking over at him before turning his head toward Panthro then finally Cheetara. "I understand about preparing for the worst, but there's no point in putting the carriage before the hauler."

"Eight hours, Sho," Cheetara said.

"What?"

"In eight hours, if we're not rescued or if Safari Joe captures more of us, then transform."

"He really this good?" Sho asked, and Tygra saw he was defeated. He finally understood, at least well enough to do what had to be done should it come to that.

"He stalked and captured all of us in one day," Tygra confirmed. "Eight hours, then."

Sho shut his eyes against the tears that wanted to fall. Cheetara was willing to be sacrificed by her own friend to save her king. In a perverse way, it was admirable, and that only made it all worse. Sho swore, then, that Safari Joe would pay. Big-time.

_In eight hours,_ Sho thought, _I have to murder one of the best friends I've ever had._

Safari Joe's hunt continues as Lion-O realizes who is abducting the ThunderCats and develops a dangerous plan to free them. Will it succeed before Sho is forced to summon the Guyver and kill Cheetara in the process? Find out in the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	5. Predator and Prey, Part Two

Eye of the Storm

Episode Five

_So far, so good,_ Safari Joe thought as he beheld the sprawling construction of New Thundera Colony. Seven of them were his, and only eight remained. In less than a day, he had reduced their numbers by nearly half. Not too shabby, considering he was facing twice as many of them as before. Most of the homes were nearing completion, he noted through the night vision goggles he wore, yet most of the lights were out. Near the western edge of town rested a structure which could only be the new Cat's Lair being built.

Safari Joe didn't care one way or the other if the Thunderian peasants survived. The ThunderCats were his goal.

The images shifted quickly in the Eye's vision. He saw the capture of Cheetara and Sho, then Panthro, Torr, Laheela, and Tygra. Safari Joe gloated over them in wild firelight, then a strange distortion, something hiding from the ethereal sight of the Eye.

Lion-O's vision returned to that of the Sword Chamber, fury heating his blood. He had known that the human's promise to never hunt again had been as sincere as a promise to hand-deliver the moon and stars. The insurance policy Panthro had put in Mule against it, broadcasting his humiliation across the stars, apparently hadn't been enough.

_This is about revenge, pure and simple,_ Lion-O thought as he placed the Sword into the claw shield and adhered it to his hip.

Myrlha hid the anxiety as well as she was able as the remaining ThunderCats, save for Pumyra, assembled in the control center. Out in the night, someone was taking down ThunderCats, one whose face was hidden in shadow like some boogeyman from her childhood. He had taken Sho.

_He's got Sho, how the hell did he do it?_

It was this thought that kept returning to her. The man she loved was at the mercy of some lunatic who had somehow rendered him powerless. If he was hurt, if he was dying somehow, being violated...

She wrenched her mind away from those thoughts with considerable difficulty, yet one still squeaked through her control;

_If he's hurt you, Sho, I'm carving a ham out of his ASS!_

"I trust you've learned something?" Lynx-O asked as Lion-O stormed into the room and leapt down into the lowered center without bothering to use the steps.

"Safari Joe," he snarled, angrier than she'd ever seen him. Myrlha frowned at the unfamiliar name, yet WilyKit and WilyKat went wide-eyed in surprise. Someone, at least, knew who that name went to.

"You mind running that by us again?" WilyKat asked.

"Safari Joe," Lion-O repeated. "Looks like he's trying it again."

"He's a game hunter," WilyKit provided for the rest, "and he's come after us once before."

"And he nearly got you all," Snarf added. "I don't think lobbing a bucket at his head is gonna cut it this time."

"Short form," Lion-O said, "is that he's trying to capture us all again, and he's almost halfway there. In worse news, he's not using the same old tricks this time."

"Have you an idea of where he is keeping our comrades?"

"No, Siberias. All the Sword showed me was some sort of distortion."

"Kinda like that huge blind he used last time?" WilyKat asked. "We couldn't see through it, it was big as life, and it lured us right out to him."

"He hid by pretty much announcing his presence," Kyranna said. "I guess this time he wanted us to be completely in the dark."

"The braille board and the Cat's Eye sensor arrays are not at full capacity," Lynx-O said, "but perhaps I can find some clues as to their location." The main viewscreen flickered to life to show the mapped areas of the lands surrounding the colony. "All of the others vanished at these points." Four circles, two each overlapping, appeared on the monitor.

"It's somewhere close to those places," Bengali said, "it's gotta be. Carrying people isn't something you want to do for a long distance."

"I am not detecting any signs of a vessel in that area."

"I'm with Bengali," Lion-O said, "he's hiding close to those areas. Thing is, how? Unless he's got some kind of invisibility..."

"A cloak!" Myrlha exclaimed. Everyone snapped their gazes at her, heavy with expectation. "I heard Mutants talk about them off and on while we were aboard the Ravager."

"Same here!"

"Indeed, I have as well, Kyranna. They would speak of how their raids would be more successful if they possessed such a device."

"Are they hard to find?"

"Cloaking devices," Siberias explained, "are scarce due to them being outlawed in civilized space. As such, they are also prohibitively expensive."

"Making a ship invisible..." Lion-O muttered.

"I believe I may yet be able to pin down our friends' location," Lynx-O said as his fingers flew across the board. "Cloaks bend light rays about a ship's hull, yet that is not all. The energy field also absorbs non-radiant energy, such as sensor beams, radar and the like. However, this does result in an increase of temperature about the vessel."

"How much?"

"Merely fifteen or twenty degrees, Lion-O. In deep space, it would be taken for background radiation, or perhaps the farthest edge of a solar wind. In a planetary atmosphere, this effect would cause a pocket of increased air temperature. There is no natural phenomena for such a highly localized pocket of increased air temperature on a planetary surface."

"In other words, we're not gonna mistake this as someone's campfire," Kit said with a grin.

"I have it," Lynx-O announced. Onscreen, a pale thermal bloom stretched to cover an area of several meters. "The pocket is barely within range of the sensors."

"It's right smack in the middle of that," Lion-O said, a plan forming quickly. "Last time, Safari Joe had detailed intelligence on our strengths and weaknesses. We have to go under the assumption that he has the same on the ThunderCats who've been named since our last meeting."

"Which means the bastard knows Pumyra's pregnant," Bengali snarled as he smacked a fist into his palm.

"Exactly, and that's why he won't be suspicious when he doesn't see her with the rest of us. He'll logically assume that Siberias is the attending physician, which will explain your absence," Lion-O went on with a nod to the elder Tyger.

"Shouldn't we wait until sunrise?" Kyranna asked. "The sun'll level the playing field a little."

"No, we'd just be tipping our hand to him. Safari Joe likely has no idea that we're onto him, and we have to keep up that appearance for as long as we can. If he clues in, he'll either engineer a situation where he can use our friends as sheilds, or he'll just bug out with the ThunderCats he has and our chances of rescuing them drop to zero." Lion-O shook his head, anger pounding like a second heartbeat in his chest. "Bengali, he might not find it odd if you're not with us. He probably knows you and Pumyra are mated..."

"You need all the muscle you can get out there," he said in reply.

"I can't afford to have half of you in the field and the rest back here. With Safari Joe, you can't afford any sort of distraction."

"I can't sit here knowing that wacko's out there with a gunsight on Pumyra's back. _Or_ on my son's back!" Lion-O considered the white Tyger's words before giving his answer.

"Fine, but keep your head where it needs to be."

"It is unlikely that she will give birth tonight," Siberias said, walking over and placing a firm hand on the younger man's shoulder, "but if she enters labor, I'll contact you."

"Thanks, Siberias."

"I believe I know where this is headed," Lynx-O said. "In the eyes of a lout such as this Safari Joe, my age and blindness would render me weak and toothless."

"Says the old and blind man who found his cloaked ship," WilyKat said with a smile. "Irony, anyone?"

"Indeed. I think you have a special purpose for me?"

"You don't miss a trick, Lynx-O," Lion-O said with a genuine smile of his own. "Myself, Bengali, Kit, Kat, and Kyranna are going to set out and pretend we're searching for our friends. We'll split up, that way it'll take longer for him to stalk and capture us."

"You're all a distraction," Myrlha said, "so Lynx-O and I can search out Safari Joe's ship!"

"Exactly. Wait one hour after we depart, he's sure to be on our tails by then. Since the ThunderClaw's control system wasn't designed to interface with Lynx-O's portable braille board, you'll have to fly it. Think you're up to it, Myrlha?"

"I haven't had much practice, but I can fly it in a straight line. Just so long as I don't have to fight with it, I can get us there."

"As for everyone coming with me, keep alert. Do everything in your power to avoid being captured, and give no hints we're onto him."

"Let's do this," Bengali said as he stood. En masse, the five ThunderCats left the control room to face the danger which stalked them in the night.

_Catch-22,_ Sho thought, _the no-win scenario._ He was certain he'd faced the dreaded situation before, yet the blanks in his memories of days long distant offered no help in recalling them, or what he did. The only one he could remember was, ironically enough, the same as the situation he found himself presently in. He had been handcuffed back-to-back with Mizuki, and Kronos soldiers were about to haul them off when the stranger Murakami had appeared, killed one of them with the biggest honkin' handgun he'd ever seen, and given Sho a hint about the person behind him. On getting a question about her birthday wrong, Sho had realized it had been a doppleganger zoanoid, and had transformed just as it was. Problem solved.

_Only, it's not a zoanoid impostor I'm chained to this time,_ he thought ruefully. That tool was out there, probably already tracking down and subduing the others. _What if he's got Myrlha?_ The thought brought him upright, fear gripping his heart. Myrlha was out there, and she had no idea she was being hunted!

_They know something's wrong by now, they're not gonna be careless!_

It was killing him inside, knowing he had the power to stop this madness and yet being unable to use it. No, he was still able, but the cost of using that power was Cheetara's life. Probably his own sanity, as well. Nearly two hours had passed since Cheetara had declared that he had to transform after eight. Sho knew the necessity of it, that by then even more ThunderCats would be here rather than between Safari Joe and Lion-O. Kill his friend, save his king. Save his friend, kill his king. On top of it all, his friends and the woman he loved would be trophies for a sick hunter. The more he thought on it, the less likely a timely rescue seemed and the more certain his path became.

The only problem was that Sho was not at all certain he could do it.

"Damned if ya do, damned if ya don't."

"What?"

"It's an old saying, Laheela. It comes from a situation where you're faced with two choices, and both of them end in... well, end very badly for someone."

"Then you choose the lesser of two evils, and hope for the best," Cheetara said.

"Kid, I know you don't want to do it," Panthro said, "hell, none of us want you to. But if it's the only way..."

"I know." A slight rustle of chain sounded just before Cheetara's hands curled around his own. He took what strength he could from the comforting gesture.

"Remember when we first met?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't think I'll _ever_ forget that," Sho replied with a weak grin.

"So what happened?" Torr asked. Sho realized they were trying to take their minds off of what was looking more and more likely to happen in another six hours. He chose not to think that they might be saying goodbye to her.

"I had just been cleared to leave the Tower's infirmary after the first Mutant Army assault," she explained, "and Sho had been given to me to learn the Code. What he didn't know when he walked in to meet me was that I hadn't gotten dressed yet."

"OHHHhhhhhh _MAN!_" Torr hooted. Panthro and Tygra chuckled softly, Laheela staring between the two of them.

"You walked in on her..."

"Bare-assed naked," Sho finished for her, for once not crushingly embarrassed about it. In hindsight, it was a memory he'd cherish, for the hilarity of it if not for the sight of her lovely body. He'd gotten more than a few looks at Myrlha over the months. "Hell of a way for a student and teacher to meet for the first time."

"I turned around just as you walked in the room," Cheetara said, a genuine chuckle in her voice. "I've never seen anyone turn so red before."

"I bet you got an eyeful and a half," Torr teased.

"Not as fast as he spun around."

"What do you expect? I was mortified!"

"Oh?" she asked primly. "You didn't like what you saw?"

_Aw, crap..._

"It's not that!" he cried in embarrassment at the verbal landmine he'd blundered into.

"Better be careful," Tygra said, "Myrlha will get jealous."

"Speaking of," Cheetara said before Sho could get any more embarrassed, "she tells me you two're getting on well."

"Yeah. We're taking things easy right now. Don't want to rush and all that."

"Don't take things _too_ easy," Panthro chided. "She's a fine woman, and something tells me she won't wait around forever."

"I know." At that moment, Sho would have given anything just to know if she was all right.

"You should know, she wants to take the next step with you," Cheetara told him. "You should think about what Panthro just said."

It felt as if she were already speaking from the grave. Despite the pleasant banter, the specter of what he might have to do lurked among them like a malevolent shade.

WilyKat dodged through the trees, acutely aware of the fragrant scents of the wood at night and attempting to find one that smelled human. He knew humans had less of a sense of smell than Thunderians, and since the man in question was Safari Joe, he'd need every advantage he could get.

When he finally caught a scent, though, every nerve jangled. It was not Safari Joe, or a human male at all. It was Kyranna.

_What in Jaga's name is she doing here?_ She had gone toward the south, not the east like he had. Her scent reaching him made no sense, and he highly doubted his own nose had developed paranormal sensitivity. _This is a trap, and I damn near walked into it._ If he hadn't caught Kyranna's scent, he would have blundered into whatever Safari Joe had set up just beyond the stand of trees before him.

_I can't just leave her there, and I can't skirt around it. That might let him know we're onto him._ Having decided that the only way to preserve the illusion of their ignorance was to do what was likely the most damn-fool thing he could do, WilyKat dashed around the trees and burst into a small clearing in the moonless night.

Having outstanding night vision due to his Thunderian heritage, he spotted her easily enough. Kyranna rested against a tree on the far side of the clearing, though her arms were stretched above her. He listened intently, picking up the slight sound of her breathing. It was deep, nearly gasping. She was injured, he decided and he began to run lightly toward her.

A weak, muffled groan sounded from her and the note of warning was unmistakeable. WilyKat stopped in his tracks, casting his eyes about frantically. Whatever trap Safari Joe had set up for him, he hadn't tripped it yet and Kyranna couldn't do much more than mumble. Being gagged made giving detailed warnings something of a problem, and it was one he had some experience with.

_The bastard knows I'm here, he'll get impatient soon enough._

"You hurt?" he said as softly as he could yet would allow his voice to reach her.

"Nm-mm." Kyranna shook her head in the negative to accompany the sound.

"Who did this to you?" If it made Safari Joe overconfident, it was worth looking like a total idiot. Kyranna cocked her head to the side, as if asking him what the hell he was thinking.

"Is whoever did this still here?"

"MM-HM!"

WilyKat tensed, having given the most blatant of cues for Safari Joe to emerge but silence still reigned. Frowning, he tested the air again and found no trace of a human scent. Had he figured out how to hide it?

"GMMM! GMP HMMH HRRR!"

_Aw, shit, I hate this,_ he thought as she tried to get a warning over to him, and he was able to put it together. She was telling him to run. WilyKat gathered his resolve. There was no way he could run out on a ThunderCat in trouble, and Safari Joe had to know that. The only way to keep him in the dark would be to spring the stupid trap and get it over with.

"Hold on!" he shouted, "I'll get you loose!" _Probably not,_ he thought, _but it sounds pretty good._ He ignored her muffled shouts for him to about-face as he ran and, two feet away from her, the trap sprang.

He immediately fell to the ground, retching and writhing as the sick feeling smashed into him with brutal force. On glancing up, he saw Kyranna twsting and moaning as well. WilyKat looked to his right and barely made out a very familiar-looking device.

It was eerily similar to the thundrainium field generator that Vultureman had cobbled up just over a year past. Just beyond it rolled a massive shape on what appeared to be tank treads. Three glowing upside-down triangles glared pitilessly down at him.

_Robot. Freakin' robot. Just great..._ WilyKat felt something sting his arm, and a cold numbness filled him along with a heavy taste of garlic in his mouth. He was unconscious a moment later.

"Stabilizers online," Myrlha said in a monotone. She was not familiar enough with the routine of preflight checks to do so silently. "Thrusters cycling up. Fuel supply full. Control surfaces responding. Looks like we're all set, Lynx-O."

"Then let us be off. The others are counting on us."

"Don't I know it. All right, then." The whine of the ThunderClaw's engines became a roar as the VTOL craft rose from the launchpad and into the star-strewn blackness. Its ascent was even rather smooth, in Myrlha's opinion. The vehicle began to move forward gently as she squeezed the steering grips to route power from the lift thrusters to the aft jets.

_Come on, Sho,_ she pleaded silently, _be okay for me._

_Safari Joe,_ Bengali thought as he stalked through the waist-high grasses. _I hate him already..._ Not enough that he had to abduct his friends, but he had to go an pull him away from Pumyra as she was about to birth his first son.

"Bengali...AAAOOOOWWWW!"

He charged forward without another thought at the sound of Pumyra's voice, cold terror settling into his heart. He dashed into a flattened circle of grass to find her sprawled on the ground.

"Bengali... help me..." The white gown she wore stretched over her rounded stomach, her face twisted in agony.

"I'm coming!" he shouted just as a nagging detail made itself known.

_She's wearing white..._

Bangali rushed forward.

_She was wearing blue this morning..._

He stopped, despite the feel of intense trepidation at the sight of Pumyra on the ground.

"Bengali... Oh, please, Bengali, HELP ME! AAAOOOWWW!" Pumyra clutched her stomach at that, clearly going into labor.

_Wait..._ he told himself. _Pumyra's back in the Lair. I know that... MotherFUCKER!_

"Bengali to Cat's Lair!" he shouted, bringing his communicator to his lips. "Siberias!"

"Receiving," the calm voice replied. "Pumyra has not gone into labor yet."

"Thanks," he snarled before holstering the communicator. "Come out you son of a bitch!" The sight of Pumyra vanished just before a cruel laugh came to him.

"Oh, not bad, not bad at _all_!" the human said as he came from behind a small boulder. His left hand remained behind the rock, however. A knife was in his visible hand, his rifle slung along his back. "But, don't think that hologram is all I have!" Safari Joe snatched his hidden hand out, dragging a bound and gagged WilyKit before him. "No illusions here, mate. Drop yer weapons, or this one dies now."

"You son of a bitch!"

"Been called worse." With a savage leer on his face, he brought the knife to WilyKit's throat. He heard her muffled moans of fear when the metal made contact with her skin "Disarm, and I mean NOW!"

Bengali looked into WilyKit's terrified eyes, then into the icy orbs of Safari Joe. The human meant it. He would kill her just to make a point to him.

_Myrlha, Lynx-O,_ he thought, _you'd better find them._

"Fine!" he shouted just before dropping the Hammer of Thundera and then unslinging his sledge and letting it fall.

"That's good. Now, drop 'em!"

Bengali dropped his weapons, wincing inside at the sight of horror and dismay in WilyKit's eyes. He had no idea how many of the others had yet to be caught, but knew that Lion-O still remained loose. However, at least two of them were now hostages against his king.

WilyKit felt the impact of Safari Joe's boot against her back just before she fell to the dirt. She looked up just in time to see a red bolt smash against Bengali's chest and spill him onto his back. She craned her neck as best she was able and saw the hilt of the knife glowing faintly from the discharge.

"Pretty clever, eh?" her captor asked, looking down at her with a savage leer. "Scout knife with a surprise. One of the more useful bits of me arsenal." The look on his face changed ever so slightly, and icy fingers traced up her spine.

_Oh, no..._ she thought, _he wouldn't. Oh, please, tell me he wouldn't..._

"You've done a piece a' fillin' out since last time."

_Don't you put a hand on me!_

"NNNNMMMMMM!" She thrashed as hard as she could, yet made distressingly little progress away from the hunter.

"Oh, I get it, that's what yer thinkin'." Safari Joe brayed laughter into the night. "Don't worry yerself. There's some things even I wouldn't do."

Strangely enough, WilyKit felt a measure of relief at that before the hilt of the knife pointed toward her. The end of it glowed brightly once more before the pain hit and the blackness claimed her.

"This is the place," Myrlha said as she set the ThunderClaw down. The landing was not quite as smooth as the takeoff, which caused her to wince slightly when they came to ground. "Hear anything?" She had seen for herself what Lynx-O's hearing could detect and found herself amazed at how his other senses made up for the loss of his sight.

"Sadly, no, but I do feel the rise in ambient temperature. We are close." Myrlha barely registered it, herself. She gazed about in the deep night, not finding a trace of a ship anywhere. _Sho's here somewhere,_ she thought just before her foot grazed something hard and cold. She knelt down to grasp what her senses told her was a rock with an idea taking root in her mind.

"Myrlha, what are you doing?" Lynx-O asked as she hurtled the stone into the distance, where it landed with a thump.

"You said this cloak thing bends light and absorbs sensors and such," she replied as she grasped another stone and chucked it in another direction with the same result as the first.

"Ah! I understand," Lynx-O said with a smile. "Good thinking, young one."

"High-tech problem," she said before loosing another rock. It bounced in mid-air with a hollow metallic gong. "Low-tech solution."

"Then, it is time for me to get to work." His hands outstretched, Lynx-O walked carefully over to where the rock had impacted the cloaked ship until he made contact. The elder Lynx moved cautiously to his left, his hands searching the hidden vessel. "Hmmm... slightly warmer than I thought it would be. Still... AH!"

"Whatcha got?"

"This seems to be some sort of access panel. If I can..." With a loud hum, a large doorway began to appear. Cloaked as the ship was, the lowering entry hatch revealed a well-lit corridor which seemed to float in mid-air with a grated gangway leading into it.

"This has got to be one of the weirdest things I've ever seen," Myrlha said, astonished. She shook off the feeling, hope blossoming in her heart alongside fear. "Let's move it!" she shouted as she rushed into the entrance. For a brief instant, she was reminded of the Ravager as the smells of a deep space vessel filtered through her nostrils. Lubricants, machine oils, recycled air... And blood. A coppery undercurrent which set her teeth on edge and ratcheted her fear upward. The scent of it was old, and not Thunderian, but the miasma could well have been... human... _Oh, no..._

"I am detecting several biosigns," Lynx-O said as he came up behind her, his portable braille board in one hand and the other manipulating the strange device. "Just this way."

"Is Sho one of them?" she asked around the chunk of ice in her throat.

"I believe so. Follow me."

"Anyone else catch that?" Torr asked in the stillness. Banter and small talk had faded away, leaving each to wrestle with Cheetara's oncoming demise in his or her own way. The sound was faint and hollow. And clearly from outside the ship.

"Something hit the outer hull," Tygra said with a thoughtful frown. "I don't think it was thrown by the wind."

"What, did he forget where he parked?" Torr snarled.

"The outer hatch is opening," Panthro said as the vibration traveled through their bodies.

"Looks like he's home again," Sho whispered, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Sho..."

"I know."

"Hey," Laheela said, "is that running I hear?"

"Yes... I think it's two people."

"What the hell is going on..."

"... heeyyyy..."

Sho sat ramrod straight.

"Was that Myrlha?" he asked with hope exploding in his voice.

"... Panthro... Laheela..."

"Definitely Lynx-O," Cheetara said. "IN HERE!" Their voices all cried out in unison, beckoning their two rescuers to the room in which they were held. Moments later the door slid open to reveal the most welcome sight the six of them had seen that day.

"_SHO!_" Myrlha cried on seeing him alive and whole.

"You've never looked better," Sho said with the lopsided grin she loved to see on his face. "And that's saying something."

"These bonds seem magnetically attached," Lynx-O said as he tried to pry Panthro's right arm free.

"There's a control box on the far side of the room," Panthro replied, turning his head to indicate it. "Myrlha..."

"On it!" She raced to the control box and studied the displays in earnest. Along the top of the interface was a row of squares, four of which indicated occupancy. Just below was a square showing two forms facing away from each other. However, nothing was labeled. "Great. Why can't he have a big red 'Release ThunderCats' button on this damn thing?" Her fingers crossed, she tapped a small square beneath one of the top images. Panthro came down with a thump, the manacles on his wrists and ankles clattering to the floor. She pressed the buttons beneath the others, then the one beneath the lower image.

"Oh, yeah! That's more like it!" Sho hooted as he stood and began to knead his legs to restore proper circulation. Myrlha wasted no time in rushing over and crushing him in an embrace. "You had me worried sick!" she admonished him.

"I was worried that nutjob had gotten you."

"I hate to interrupt the tender reunion," Panthro said after clearing his throat, "but we need to know what in the blue _fuck_ is going on out there."

"Pumyra and Siberias are still in the Lair," Lynx-O answered. "Lion-O is leading a party of the remaining ThunderCats in a diversionary tactic. The others are aware that one Safari Joe is behind your abductions."

"We came here to board his ship and free you all," Myrlha provided, having released her embrace. Sho's hand was firmly in her own, as if he might disappear unless she held onto him.

"When was this?"

"Nearly three hours ago."

"We've gotta move!" Laheela shouted. "Safari Joe's not working alone!"

"I'll take the ThunderClaw," Myrlha said.

"We've got transportation handy." Tygra swept his arm about the room as he spoke. "With what he's put us through, a little highjacking is definitely in order."

"You find our weapons?"

"Right here," Myrlha said as she reached into a pack on her shoulder. Re-armed, Cheetara broke away from the group.

"If it's all the same to you, I'll use the usual method."

"Me, too," Sho said next, pulling free of Myrlha's hand. "I think this qualifies as a life-or-death situation, Sensei." Panthro nodded in assent.

"Give 'im hell, kid."

Cheetara, Myrlha, and Sho emerged into the night and paused at the visual of the entryway hanging in mid-air.

"Weird."

"Agreed, Sho." Cheetara stretched her legs for a moment. "Let's move!"

"Can you keep up?" Sho asked with a wink.

"Hah! Eat my dust, kid." The Cheetah turned and vanished in a blur.

"Sho." He turned about to face Myrlha. "Be careful. I love you, in case I haven't said it today."

"First: I love you, too. Second: _GUYVER!_" The change complete, Sho turned about and entertained several images of his foot interacting with Safari Joe's ass as he took to the sky.

On the bridge of the Gelnika, Panthro began cycling the ship's engines to power from the main command seat. The space was small, with barely enough room for the five of them, the blinking lights lending a somewhat surreal atmosphere to the recycled air.

"Are you certain you can fly this jalopy?"

"Tygra, have you met me?" Panthro replied, his hands busy at the controls. "If I can't fly it, it can't be flown! Say, Lynx-O, why didn't you go with Myrlha?"

"Not to speak ill of such a fine young lady," he replied, "but her flying does not inspire complete confidence. Perhaps more practice is in order."

"Wonder who'll get there first?" Laheela asked idly.  
"Like it matters?" Torr asked back. "Safari Joe's ass is grass, and those two make for a pair of highly pissed-off lawnmowers."

"Well, how about that? You just said something that was almost funny, Torr," Panthro said with a grin.

"Thanks, I think."

The Eye growled, low and urgent from his hip and Lion-O swore vehemently. He held the hilt to his eyes, already with a damn good idea of what it would show him. He did not find himself disappointed.

They were tied hand and foot on the ground, struggling weakly. Each wore a collar of dull metal which Lion-O recognized as thundrainium. WilyKit and Kyranna each sported angry red welts over their mouths where adhesive tape had been roughly removed.

"LION-O!" Safari Joe's booming voice brought him out of the Eye's sight. It echoed off of the trees, provoking angry responses from the nocturnal wildlife.

"I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME," his artificially enhanced voice said. "I'VE GOT 'EM ALL! ALL THAT'S LEFT IS YOU!"

_I already know that, you tool,_ he thought, using a Second Earth insult Sho had recalled and told him about once he'd inadvertently used it to describe the supposedly late Mumm-Ra. _But..._ He ignored Safari Joe for a moment and used the Eye's second sight to check in on Lynx-O and Myrlha. His heart leapt for joy at the sight.

"...GOT IT?! I'M FIVE HUNDRED METERS NORTHWEST OF YOUR POSITION! THAT'S RIGHT, MATE, I KNOW EXACTLY WHERE YOU ARE! IF YOU AREN'T HERE INSIDE FIVE MINUTES, I START HAVIN' A BIT O' FUN WITH 'EM!" Safari Joe's threat echoed for a brief moment, then the night was still once more aside from the pounding of Lion-O's feet and the snarl of his growing rage. This standoff was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid, and the others might not arrive in time to tip the balance to his favor. Still, he had to stall the hunter as long as he possibly could.

He almost wished he'd brought Snarf along with a handy bucket.

"Well?"

"Thunderian biosign detected. At current speed it will arrive in three minutes, twenty-seven seconds."

"Well, then, kitties, we've some time before you get front-row seats to Lion-O's execution." Safari Joe looked down at them, each shooting death glares at him while futilely trying to escape the ropes. Thundrainium collars notwithstanding, one thing the human was quite good at was making knots.

He could feel it, closer than ever, his return to the top of the heap. His proper accolades would return, his money, his name! It was nearly enough to sexually excite him. He hunkered down in front of them, grinning madly and enjoying the hell out of things.

"Comfy? Cozy?"

"Piss off, you lecher!" WilyKit snapped, though her voice was as weak as her limbs.

"Lecher? Can't say I've been called that too many times."

"If the boot fits..."

"No worries, kitty. I prefer human women, meself."

"If you've laid one hand on her, I'll..."

"Do nothing once I deliver the lot o' you to... No. Better for you to find out on yer own."

"Arrival in one minute," Packhorse informed him.

"Time to get this show on the road!"

Lion-O arrived in time to see Safari Joe and a large unknown robot bring weapons to bear against him. The huntsman's rifle he was all too familiar with, and the multiple appendages of the machine bore an arsenal of death. If it came to a fight, he realized, the odds were completely against him. Which was, of course, what Safari Joe had intended. He shot a glance at the other ThunderCats, who were just a scant three meters to Safari Joe's left. Easily within range. Halogen lamps cast false daylight onto the stretch of ground which lay at the outer edge of the forest he had just vacated.

"You were never one for a fair fight, Safari Joe," he growled.

"Fair? Pfah, who needs it? This ain't a fight, either. This is a killin'!"

"Don't count on that. Why did you come back? More of your idea of sport?"

"Sport? Not this time, mate. Once this hunt's wrapped up, I'll have enough cash to re-enter the lifestyle to which I have become accustomed."

"This is about money?!" Lion-O felt his jaw drop, and his fury soar. "Who hired you?"

"That's my business, Lion-O." The rifle was aimed at his chest, yet could be brought to bear on the others in no time. "It's not just the money. Ten thousand for live bags and five grand for corpses is a sweet pot, but it's not everything."

"Ten thousand," Lion-O spat. "That the going rate for lives these days?!"

"For yours. Well, theirs, really. Where you're concerned, I can take the short end of the stick. I'll see you dead for humiliating me. I'll have you on your knees before me like I was before you." The hate in the human's voice was palpable, a nearly physical presence. "Drop your sword and lose that claw." Lion-O remained still, his sword arm not lowering an inch. "Oh, well," Safari Joe said as he turned the barrell of his rifle twice clockwise, "if you wanna play it that way..." He turned on the spot and a jet of orange flame soared above the heads of the captive ThunderCats. A blue lance of energy impacted just in front of his feet, leaving a patch of grass smoking. Lion-O spared a glance at the unknown robot and saw it bringing what looked to be everything online.

"You hero types are so predictable," Safari Joe laughed once he finished discharging the flamethrower mode of his gun above their heads. "All ya need is a handy hostage or two, and you freeze up like a fucking glacier."

"I'll..."

"Shut it! I'll tell you what yer gonna do! First, yer gonna drop that sword, then yer gonna drop that claw, and last you're gonna get on yer fucking knees 'n if yer lucky, I won't make ya gobble my crank!"

"PERVERT!" WilyKit shouted.

"How 'bout it? Eh? Think you can shoot one o' those damn beams from that sword before I move my itty-bitty finger?" He aimed the weapon lower, its tip promising a fiery death to those who were presently unable to get clear. "Do what I say, or we get to enjoy the smell of burning cat in the evening..."

It was as immediate as it was beautiful for him to see. The blur stopped at his side even before the crack of Safari Joe's wrist snapping like kindling reached his ears. Stunned into silence for a moment, his hand jutting out at the wrong angle from his wrist, the hunter and his captives followed the arc of the tumbling rifle as it rose and then fell and a slender arm reached up to pluck it casually out of the air.

Cheetara, her face bloodied, her uniform torn, chest heaving from the run and a fire in her eyes Lion-O hoped would never be directed at himself, turned about slowly to face Safari Joe. Lion-O almost felt sorry for him, but not quite.

"Wow..." WilyKat breathed. "That was the coolest thing I have ever seen." His voice was hushed from the collar and from sheer amazement.

"Yuh..." Safari Joe swallowed nervously, just now feeling the pain of his broken wrist. "Yuh... You're loose?! Then..." He wasn't given time to finish. A trio of obsidian spheres rained down from the sky, smashing through the robot's head, torso, and the connecting assembly between it and the platform which housed its treads. The machine burst into pieces just when the Guyver smashed down in a crouch atop the platform with a deafening crash and the shriek of overabused metal.

"That wasn't too bad either, Bro," WilyKit said as Sho rose to his full transformed height.

"So," Sho said as he stepped down from the platform.

"Care to try us again?" Cheetara finished. Safari Joe's face paled to the color of old milk, both from horror and from pain.

"HOW?!" he shrieked in a voice much like that of a petulant child just as the whine of engines drew near.

"Helps to have friends," Sho replied in his strangely mixed voice. The ThunderClaw arrived with the first traces of dawn, Myrlha atop it as it descended. The landing was, as usual for her, somewhat rough and Lion-O suspected Panthro would give her a ration of crap about it the next chance he got. Another roar of thursters followed, and Safari Joe's ship grew larger and larger in the sky.

"Sho dear, wanna give me a hand with this?" Myrlha asked as she approached the restrained ThunderCats. "Thundrainium's kinda tough for me to deal with."

"Go," Lion-O said, sparing a grin at the transformed human. Sho nodded once before loping over to them.

"Got four free tickets outta this pit," he barked as though he were hawking junk at a travelling carnival. "Who's in?"

"Can't beat that price," Bengali managed with a weak smirk.

"N... no FAIIIIRRR!" Safari Joe wailed as he sank to his knees. "I was close... so fucking close!"

"Lion-O, come in," Panthro's voice squawked from the communicator on his left hip.

"Lion-O here. Everyone okay?"

"Good as can be expected. I've already gotten up with CONTROL via subspace relay buoy. Mandora'll be here later this morning to pick up our friend."

"Excellent. We'll have him ready for her." He ended communications just as the sound of snapping metal reached him. Cheetara kept her steel-melting glare firmly on the abased human while Lion-O looked over. Sho walked among them, snapping the collars apart as though they were made of old plastic made brittle from exposure to the elements before helping Myrlha with the ropes.

He felt it more than saw it, the slight tensing in Cheetara's muscles that instantly brought him to her wavelength. Running on instinct, he twisted around and brought the claw shield above his heart.

Safari Joe's uninjured hand was still at the end of its arc, the look of triumph replaced by crushing disappointment as the thin blade impacted the claw shield and fractured. Lion-O glared down at the base creature Safari Joe truly was.

"I've had enough knives in my chest, thanks," he said coldly. Bengali, now freed, walked over and yanked Safari Joe roughly to his feet from behind when a low snarl drew Lion-O's attention.

The others now stood, trying to work circulation through their limbs and wincing slightly at painful ropeburn. Safari Joe had not been thoughtful of that when binding them, which was no surprise. Lion-O began to feel a little uneasy on seeing that Myrlha was staring nervously at Sho, and finding that the snarl was coming from him. The contol medal glowed briefly before twin jets of gas shot from the facial vents.

"Oi, what is this shit..." Safari Joe asked, his voice quavering. Sho said nothing as he placed one foot almost mechanically before the other. "Aw c'mon, Sho! It was nothin' personal, yeah?" Sho remained silent as his steps quickened into a trot, then a run and his snarl exploded in a roar of rage.

"DON'T KILL MEE!" the other human pleaded, his arms shielding his face from the lethal blow. Bengali stood stunned as Sho's cocked fist shot forward...

Just as the bio-booster armor disengaged with a loud crack and his fist smashed into Safari Joe's solar plexus. His breath whoofed from his lungs as he doubled over, his arms falling from his face. Sho reared back with his right arm and followed with a brutal hook that connected solidly with Safari Joe's temple. Panting, Sho turned away from the now-unconcious hunter to face Lion-O.

"Code or no Code," he said, his voice rough, "I owed him that." Lion-O felt Cheetara's hand on his chest, and looked down at the line of dried blood that ran from the corner of her mouth to her chin. More than that, the message in her eyes stayed him.

"Let's get him settled," he said, pointing to the limp form in Bengali's grasp, "before we all collect on what he owes us. He has to be alive for Mandora to pick up."

Ceres Mandora of CONTROL had arrived with a crew of fellow agents which scoured Safari Joe's ship in search of illegal weapons and to download the main data core from his ship's computer.

"We've got everything we need," she said once the crew was finished. "You've helped us nail one of the worst poachers in recent years, among other things." She extended her hand, a rare gesture from one so severe, and Lion-O shook it warmly. He'd always admired her. Mandora, after all, was one of the toughest cookies he'd ever met, and he'd met Cheetara. "The information in his ship's data core will give us all we need on his former clients. You ThunderCats have done a great service to the Pan-Galactic Federation."

"Always willing to help," he replied. "What about the Gelnika?"

"Well," she said with the barest hint of slyness, "the cost of impounding starships keeps going up year by year. Even when we part them out or auction them off intact, the profit margins are never all that high."

"So, if we took it off your hands..."

"You'd be doing another service for CONTROL."

"Looks like you've got more raw materials, Panthro!" he said.

"At this rate, I'm never gonna run out of raw materials. Not that I'm complaining." He did have another ThunderTank and HoverCat to build, after all.

In the early afternoon, Lion-O found himself near the edge of one of the quarry's cliffs. Sho faced away from him, sitting with his legs dangling over the rim and staring into space as though the weight of the world were once again on his shoulders.

"Cheetara told me," he said as he took a seat next to him.

"I don't know if I could've done it," Sho said in a faraway tone. "I keep thinking about it, and I just don't know."

"Just be glad you didn't have to find out for sure." Lion-O said gently.

"What kind of man does that make me? I don't know if I can murder my own friend?"

"No, not that." Lion-O tapped Sho on the shoulder, and the human faced him. "She told you about what it means to be a ThunderCat beyond the whole bashing bad guys bit. That sometimes..."

"They're called on to make sacrifices for the greater good. Yeah. But, that? Killing your friend is one hell of a big sacrifice to make. Never mind what it would've done to you."

"She was right, you know. I would have understood it in time."

"Sometimes," Sho said as he looked back over the quarry, and the Thunderians and Berbils who were extracting stone, "I think about what Mumm-Rana told me when I teleported her back to the White Pyramid. She said the road I walk on has no end, and is paved with the corpses of those I fight for and those I fight against. That I'd never have peace."

"She's pretty biased against you," Lion-O replied. "Keep that in mind." He inhaled deeply the air tinged with the smell of pulverized rocks. "We'll always have enemies. People are always going to want to kill us. Because we look different. Because we think different. Because we stand for what's good and just. Or, they're just a bunch of tools." Sho gave a short chuckle at that.

"Complete toolbags," he said with a small grin.

"When I told Panthro about that one, he said he'd never look at his workshop quite the same way again."

"Yeah, and I bet he's gonna chew me to a bloody rag for what I did to Safari Joe. I mean, Bengali was holding him still."

"Weelll... Panthro said your form was off, but you put a lot of power behind that brainsmasher you sent him off to la-la land with." Lion-O smiled at the surprise in Sho's eyes. He'd used more or less the man's exact words. "The only thing he was miffed over was that he didn't get a piece of Safari Joe for destroying the ThunderTank."

"Then tell him the body blow was for that." Sho's grin grew to a genuine smile. "Mess with the ThunderTank, you mess with Panthro's emotions."

"Not many do that and live to tell the tale. Or at least, live to tell it without being put in a body cast." Sho erupted in laughter, and Lion-O followed suit.

"You messed with my ThunderTank, toolbag! WHAM!" Sho said in a near-passable impression of Panthro's voice and smashed his fist into his other hand. Lion-O fell backward, nearly in hysterics which set Sho off, then propelled Lion-O further, and soon they were both gone, howling mirth into the pale blue sky of Third Earth until tears were nearly streaming from their eyes and a few of the workers below looked up wondering just what the hell was happening on that cliff.

"Oh... Oh, wow, I needed that," Sho said once he could breathe again.

"I take it you're feeling better." Lion-O flipped himself up and offered a hand to Sho.

"Lots, Lion-O. Thanks," he said as he took the offered hand and rose from the ground himself.

"Not to tell you your business, but I think there's a certain Cougress back at camp who might be feeling a little lonely right about now."

"Yeah, I can do something about that..."

She had heard everything in the council session that had been called after their return with Safari Joe. Myrlha could have slapped herself for not realizing it on seeing Sho and Cheetara tied back-to-back the way they'd been. If he'd bio-boosted, Cheetara would have been on the Astral Plane approximately thrity seconds before realizing she was dead. If she and Lynx-O hadn't found them in time, he would've had no choice and Myrlha shuddered at what it would have done to him.

She hadn't seen Sho since that Mandora woman had left with the crazed hunter, and she felt a little hurt. Myrlha understood that people needed to be alone sometimes, but she wanted to talk to him about what he went through. He was becoming more and more open with her, lowering new barricades day by day and she dearly hoped this wouldn't put any of them back up.

The main camp which would be home until the colony was completed was an organized grid of tents centered around a main square from which food and medicine had been distributed when construction first began. At present, it served primarily as a social area since the Medical Wing was up and running in the new Cat's Lair. Lion-O had called for those involved in the craziness the night before to take the day and rest, and Myrlha could have hugged him for it.

"Hey, Myrlha!" She turned to find Lynxran, who looked a damn sight healthier than he did while under Mutant yoke, running up to her. He had taken charge of the orphaned kittens, organizing them to help out mostly with food preparation and light gofer tasks. He dashed up the hardpack lane with a grin on his face.

"Hi, there!" she called back. "Have you..."

"Sho's looking for you," he said as he came to a stop, not even winded. _Future ThunderCat material,_ she thought. "He's in the Square."

"Thanks!" she chirped brightly and made a beeline for the place. He was waiting right where she was headed. She let a smile settle on her face as she entered the large cleared space, spotting him easily among the milling and laughing Thunderians. His tight back was to her, and her smile became a little naughty. Holding a finger to her lips to tell those who saw her sneaking up on him to keep mum, she silently approached and covered his eyes with her hands.

"Guess who?"

"Prettiest girl in the world? Love of mine? Myrlha?"

"Right all three times!" She removed her hands to let him turn, and she saw that those barriers they had overcome were still down. Sho slid next to her, wrapping an arm about her trim waist and she the same. They were roughly the same height, as Myrlha had only four inches on him.

"I want to say thanks, Myrlha. If you and Lynx-O..."

"Hey," she said, "who says you get to be the only one who wears the superhero pants in this relationship?" Sho cast his gaze down to her waist and her legs.

"They'd look a lot better on you."

"Do they come with living armor?"

"Beats a pink one-piece and a full helmet."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind," Sho said with a beaming smile aimed at her. They walked on in silence, and Myrlha noted that they were headed for the tent they shared. It was a modest setup, a green dome of thin nylon with a vertical zippered entrance. They slipped through and Sho sealed the flaps. Their two sleeping bags rested on the floor. A small table sat in the corner when not between their bags at supper, its flat surface enough for two plates of food.

"Y'know," she said once they were in the relative privacy of their tent, "I used to read a lot of adventure stories back when I was a kitten."

"Yeah?" Mirth was dancing in Sho's eyes. He was up to something, and she had a pretty good idea she'd like it.

"Did you have those on Second Earth?"

"Where the dashing hero swoops in to save the damsel-in-distress, smacks up the dastardly villian, then rides into the sunset with the woman in his arms?"

"I guess you did!"

"This country was notorious for them when the film industry first started up. We didn't have anything quite like that in Japan, but I've read a few here and there." The mirth in his eyes was building as he moved quietly toward her, a wry smile on his lips. "And, as I recall, the hero always got a reward from the grateful damsel." Sho leapt with an arm over her shoulders and she caught him against her chest as he wrapped his free arm about her as well.

"Sho..." Myrlha felt the laughter begin to bubble inside her as Sho plastered the biggest, most dewey-eyed expression on his face.

"My hero!" he said with all the melodramatic sappyness he could muster before cradling his head against her. Myrlha just stood there, the hilarity rushing up from her belly and her control slipping.

"Tell me..." she managed to say, "... are you wearing a straight face right now?" Sho began to tremble against her, fighting down the same reaction.

"... No...!" They both lost it, braying laughter into the space of their tent like complete and total fools, uncaring who outside their tent would hear and wonder what the joke was, or if they'd gone insane.

"You... GOOFBALL!" Myrlha squealed once the laughter began to fade. Sho hopped out of her arms, yet his were still around her and she almost missed the fact that he was leaning downward and taking her with him.

Myrlha went willingly, landing atop him and still giggling. Sho's left arm moved from about her neck, his fingers lightly tracing the line of her jaw and chin before sliding down her right arm and intwining their fingers from the top of her hand. He brought it down toward his face where he began to lightly kiss her at the base of her wrist.

_Whoooaaaa..._ She thought as the pleasure shot through her like jolts of electricity. The feel of his lips against the pulse of her lifeblood thrilled her, and he knew it, knew how her body would heat up, how she would react.

"Careful, Sho, you know what that does to me..." she said, her voice becoming husky.

"Why do you think I'm doing it?" he replied, the thrum of his voice in the same spot nearly pushing her into sexual overdrive.

"I thought you wanted to wait..." He stopped, then looked at her with the most soulful eyes she'd ever seen in a man.

"That murderer was out there, you were one of his targets, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. That, and I got some pretty good advice while I was his unwilling guest."

"You're doing a damn good job of acting on it," she said. "I'm gonna need to change my underwear if I go out again today." She'd soaked said garment clean through, in fact...

"Why not just stay here?" The fires in his eyes were burning as hot as they felt in hers. "Myrlha, I'm ready if you are." Those words hung in the static heat between them, the ones she'd ached to hear for months. He was ready to take that step, to bring their relationship to a higher level of trust and love and commitment. Before now, the most intimate act between them had been when she'd taught him the joys of oral love and how they went well past saying "I love you", and that had been just before the colony had begun contruction several months ago.

"You're sure?" she asked, afraid that he'd change his mind. That the fire in his eyes would dim, that he would retreat from her and say that, no, he wasn't after all and they should wait. And wait. And wait. Until she could wait no more and realize that he didn't feel what she did, or that he would be forever too afraid to act on what his heart told him despite what he'd said about that girl so long ago. The one he loved way back when and never told... "You are..."

"I love you, Myrlha. I've never been able to feel so relaxed and at ease with anyone. I've never trusted my heart to anyone like I do you." Myrlha bent down to engage his lips and remained until both felt as though they would pass out.

When Sho awoke, he recalled never having felt so tired and so fulfilled at the same time. The scent of their lovemaking was strong in the air of the tent, the heat of their bodies nearly baking in the sleeping bags they lay between. Myrlha lay cuddled against him, an arm around his chest and her breasts a pleasant presence in his side. Her brown hair tickled his nose slightly, and he brushed it back from his face and away from hers to avoid a sneeze. He stared down at her face for what felt like eons, calm and blissful as she...

"You purr in your sleep?" he asked softly. She didn't reply, and Sho found that her purrs lulled him. A wistful smile appeared on his lips before he planted a featherlight kiss on hers.

"Mmmmm..." she moaned, and Sho leaned his head back against the pillow. He heard the sounds of the night outside their tent, and wondered how long they'd been asleep. He decided that it didn't matter. What was most important in his life was sleeping peacefully in his arms.

"I shoulda done this months ago..." he muttered with a contented sigh before drifting back to sleep.

Ratar-O arrives on Third Earth, and his data stolen from Kronos London leads him to a likely spot to begin hunting their secrets. Life proceeds as normal for the ThunderCats, and a new Thunderian life makes his grand debut alongside a horror from the past. What will this new shade from the dust of Second Earth add to the brewing storm? All this and more in the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	6. New Life, Old Horror

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode Six

In the tangled wildlands of what had once been the People's Republic of China, the Mutant experimental ship Warhammer sat several kilometers away from the river once known as the Yangtse. One of the most ancient civilizations, its roots reaching into the murky prehistory of First Earth, had given over to nature in much the same way as the rest of the planet. The sun set below the Yangtse and the vibrant jungles which neared its banks save for the kilometer-long stretch of trees which had been scorched to cinders to accomodate the girth of a ship which did not belong on that world.

In his quarters, Ratar-O had just finished his fourth viewing of Packhorse's A/V sensor logs and once again shook his head at the images.

"I can't believe that arrogant cock-knocker almost pulled it off," he whispered as, yet again, the robot's inputs were very suddenly interrupted. The data it managed to gain on the attack which reduced it to slag clearly indicated the Guyver had destroyed it. "I know the ThunderCats are notorious for overcoming long odds, but this!"

"It is very surprising, father," Meliz said from his position on the foyer's couch. "Personally, I had thought they would have defeated him without Guyver's assistance. Perhaps his former reputation was indeed well-earned."

"If luck hadn't turned against him..."

"He would have delivered them as agreed, and since you had no intention of paying him, you would of course have had to kill him."

"But not before sharing a good, honest drink with the man. I would have owed him at least that before slicing him lengthwise." Ratar-O ran his fingers down his right whisker. "Still and all, he served his purpose. Status?" he asked, once more all-business.

"Teams are deployed to the coordinates you specified," Meliz said. "The subterranian ruins are in far better condition than expected."

"Radiation levels?"

"Background only. The sheilding on this particular reactor seems rather strong."

"Good. Have them keep digging. I have a feeling that we're on the verge of something big."

Half a world distant from Ratar-O and under the light of the sun which did not shine over the remains of China, the ThunderCats sat in council within the largest of the available tents. More were arriving by the moment, each helping themselves to the coffee Snarf had set in an urn as they entered. Torr and Kyranna took their seats in the circle of chairs which was headed by Tygra. Myrlha was last to enter, and the near-glow on her face caused a few sidelong glances to travel between the others. Bengali was not present, having been relieved of duty until futher notice so he would not miss the birth of his and Pumyra's son. Siberias, also, was not in attendance due to the Puma's having just begun labor a few hours previous. According to the attending healer, it was only a matter of hours until Darin made his grand debut.

"Safari Joe's comeback attempt can't have been a coincidence," Cheetara said once Tygra called Council to order. "I feel it." Those three words brought the gravity of the situation to the forefront in the minds of those who knew her best. "I haven't had a vision, but I feel it's a bad omen all the same."

"He said he was being paid to deliver us to someone," Lion-O said, recalling the hunter's words. "And, not just ThunderCats. Whoever employed him wanted Sho, as well."

"Somebody wantin' a slave run?" Torr asked. "Been my experience when someone takes you down, it's to sell you into bondage. Could explain why he said we were worth more alive than dead." Lion-O understood where the other man was coming from, as well as a couple hundred others outside the tent.

"I don't think that's likely," Laheela opined. "Why only a few when ther're hundreds to take? Besides, someone with Sho's abilities wouldn't stay chained very damn long. He'd be too dangerous to keep alive."

"Decapitation strike," Panthro offered. "Take out the chain of command, you put down any effective resistance to a later move."

"Or, just some rich loony who wanted us on display," Myrlha said, her somewhat dreamy expression having cleared from the topic of debate. "Maybe even personal servants." She did not miss Laheela's shudder at those words.

"I know a thing or two about that..." she said softly. "I have to say that's possible."

"Either way," Tygra said, realizing that they had covered all the relevant angles available to them, "Mandora will contact us when CONTROL learns who hired Safari Joe. We can act more decisively from there. Next," he said, shifting to more mundane business, "we need to adjust the duty roster. We're currently two people down."

"I've put Cheetara into Bengali's slot for today," Lion-O said as he lowered his cup. "We're ahead of schedule in the quarry, and we're right on track for construction efforts. So," he consulted the data padd in his left hand, "that puts her with you and Panthro in the Depot." The Depot, as they had come to call the low-lying depression in the earth, was where the remains of the Ravager, Starsweeper, Pillager, and Bludgeon rested alongside SkyTomb and recently the Gelnika. No one called it the Junkyard in Panthro's presence.

"No problem," Panthro replied. He missed the ever-so-slight twitch at the corner of Cheetara's left eye due to it being out of his line of sight.

"I've put Cartography Duties on hold for the persent, until we can send more teams at a time. No sense in anyone getting in another ambush." Heads nodded at that. "Last, I've got Sho pulling kitchen duty in place of Pumyra's turn at it."

"He's pretty fair shakes in the kitchen," Cheetara added. During the expedition to find a suitable place for New Thundera Colony, Sho had cooked several fish he had caught when his turn to scout food came up.

"Sure surprised me," WilyKat said. Nearing sixteen, his form was more heavily muscled beneath the brown tunic and pants he wore. His sister was more lithe, her bust filling out beneath the light purple one-piece unitard. She had forgone her original outfit, much to the relief of everyone. She wouldn't have been able to walk anywhere in the colony without making heads turn had she stuck with it. "I wouldn't have thought he'd have those skills."

"I've already gotten some submissions for possible statues," Tygra mentioned, tabling the issue and consulting his own padd. "Lion-O, you remember the ones in the capital on Thundera?"

"A few of them," he replied. "I never got out into the city much. I think you should file the submissions somewhere until contsruction of the colony is complete."

"Seconded," Kyranna added. "Can't beautify a city until it's built, right?"

"I was already planning on that. Good to know we're all on the same page." Light chuckles followed Tygra's quip. He didn't make jokes often, but once in a while Council sessions needed a dose of levity. "Since nothing else is on the agenda for today, Council is adjourned." As they rose to leave, Myrlha fell in step beside Cheetara.

"I'm on Quarry Duty today," she said, "mind if I tag along for a bit?"

"Of course," Cheetara said, noting that Myrlha's face was somewhat dreamy again, though not so much as when Council began. "Something on your mind?" It was obvious what had put that look on her face.

"Whatever you told Sho while you were in the Gelnika," Myrlha said, taking Cheetara's hands in hers. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"I'm glad for you," she answered, "but it was Panthro who gave it to him. I just told him to think about it. So," she said as Myrlha released her hands, "I take it he decided to 'Man Up' as the boys say?" Her face held a touch of mischief as she spoke.

"More than once," Myrlha whispered, and then winked.

"My, my..." Cheetara's voice was falsely demure, a hand over her breasts in faux modesty.

"When the emotion's there, it makes up for the lack of experience. He learned his lessons, though," Myrlha said as they began walking again.

"Oh?"

"Promise to keep this between us?"

"Naturally!"

"I was his first." Cheetara's eyes widened at that. "His first kiss, too." She shook her head at that, amazed and unsurprised at the same time. They continued to make small talk until Myrlha had to bank off to report for Quarry Duty, and Cheetara was left to mull over when Panthro would make his move to "Give her a talkin' to" as she made her way to the Depot.

"How far apart are the contractions?" Siberias asked.

"About an hour." Pumyra reclined against the raised portion of the bed and did everything she could to relax. Bengali, for his part, was practically thrumming with nervous tension.

"Then he's yet to enter the birth canal," Siberias replied. He consulted the medscaner in his hand, a circular device which used passive sensors to read vital signs. "Though he is turning nicely. You have not begun dialating yet."

"Won't be long now," Bengali said before bending down to kiss her cheek. "I don't know how you can bear it."

"Trust me," she said, "if men had to give birth, our race would've died out centuries ago."

"I am afraid I must concur with her on that," Siberias said with a low chuckle. "Some expecting fathers wish to share that experience. I happen to think them fools for doing so."

"Damned idiots, you mean." She looked over to Bengali then. "Unless you pass a kidney stone the size of, oh, say a melon or you give yourself a vasectomy with a chainsaw, you have no idea what it's like."

Bengali, wisely, chose not to visualize either example.

Pumyra, over the course of her pregnancy, had endured some of the wildest mood swings Bengali had ever seen. Given how stable Pumyra had always been, he'd sometimes caught himself wondering if she were possessed rather than with cub. At times, she was her normally sweet self, other times the slightest thing Bengali did would bring that sharp tongue of hers and it would draw blood. Sometimes, she was even overly self-conscious of her appearance. Other times she had been, to put it simply, unbelievably horny. Siberias and Pumyra had both told him that pregnancy could raise hell with her hormones, yet he'd had no idea it would be so bad with Pumyra. The shift from happy to furious to weepy left his own emotions feeling as if they had ridden a rollercoaster designed by a lunatic at times.

As such, Bengali had learned how to gauge Pumyra's emotions far more accurately than he could before. Her posture, the curve of her lips, the shape of her eyes, everything told him when the all-clear had sounded or when Hurricane Pumyra was about to blow through.

It would all be worth it once Darin was born. Bengali didn't doubt that one bit, though he would be more than happy to have the Pumyra he knew back.

Natalie stood in the center of a line of her sisters, eight women making a line in a clear patch of ground under the new sun. A small gathering of women stood across from them, witnesses to the event which was about to take place. Verona herself, regal even in a brown one-piece fur which showed her still-firm legs, stood in cool silence. Her hair was braided into a tail which hung about her right shoulder.

Muttered conversations ceased as he exited the trees and stood before Verona. His hair was black, and draped down to his shoulders. His pants were of lizadon hide, and were all he was allowed to wear for the Rite of Ascencion. For women, it was a test of archery and unarmed combat against the best in the tribe. For men, it was... this.

"Speak your name, boy."

"I am called Nall, M'lady."

He kept his hands clasped behind him, his head bowed in submission. His upper body lacked the muscle tone of the women of the Warrior Maiden folk, slender and smooth. Natalie found it tough to believe he had reached the age of eighteen.

"Today, you undergo the Rite of Ascencion," Verona said. "Today, you become a man." Without further command, Nall walked slowly forward, his head still bowed and his hands still behind him until he stood before the first Maiden. He turned to her, raised his head...

The slap echoed off of the trees surrounding the glade. Nall made no sound, no move to resist while his head rocked to the side. He lowered his head and moved to the second woman, who unloaded a backhand against the other side of his face. Another woman, another blow, this time a punch to the stomach that nearly doubled him over. On and on it went until he stood before her.

Natalie moved on reflex, leaving a hard slap against his face which by now was reddening not from shame but from repeated blows. He had been born of a Warrior Maiden, and had been raised to believe in his status as second class. Men brought in from outside the tribe, on the other hand, had some difficulty adjusting to the fact. On Nall moved, and Natalie gave him a silent apology.

He finally reached the last woman, who punched him in the jaw with a sharp crack. Not hard enough to break bone, severely injuring the boys who underwent the Rite was forbidden, but it would surely hurt for a while to come. Natalie knew this was necessary to keep males of the tribe in line, but still found herself slightly sickened at the practice. The Law of the Wood, however, was inflexible on this point. Bruised and a little bloodied, he stood before Verona, his head still down and his arms still behind him. By not objecting, turning away, or trying to defend himself (which would have done him no good whatsoever) he had proven that he knew his place in Warrior Maiden society. He was now a man.

"You have done well, Nall, and this day I proclaim you to be a man in the presence of womankind and of the Wood."

"I thank you, M'lady."

The Rite of Ascencion ended, but there was yet more for Nall, Natalie knew. That evening, when he returned to the small huts that the men and boys called their own, a Maiden would be waiting to fully make a man of him, as well as to reinforce the knowledge that obedient men were well rewarded. If a child was conceived due to it, so much the better for the tribe as a whole and Nall would be granted other such visits more frequently aside from what was expected of him.

Natalie kept dissident thoughts to herself, as she was sure others did. For the strength of the tribe, she told herself, the Law of the Wood had to be obeyed. It did not, however, mean she had to agree with all of it. The last one to show dissent had been banished by Verona herself, as well as a group of others whom she had discovered agreed with said dissident. Verona's own sister, Lily.

Natalie thought on the story told to her by her mother as the group dispersed from the clearing. Nothing would have happened if she hadn't done the one thing Warrior Maidens were forbidden to do.

She had fallen in love with one of the men.

Men were kept for their roles in caring for the boys, for preparing the meals, and for ensuring that there would be future generations of warriors. A woman could have her pick from any male who had undergone the Rite of Ascencion, and he had no say in the matter. Lily, Natalie had been told, had developed a fondness for a certain man by the name of Kestrel, and her dalliances with him had developed into love. When it was discovered that she wished for Kestrel to be hers exclusively, Verona had not been happy about it. In short, Lily believed (and this was anathema to any proper Warrior Maiden) that men should not be treated in such a way as they were. Yes, they were not on par with women, but they shouldn't be kept as livestock either. Some others had dared to speak up in Lily's defense, but they only ended up sharing Lily's banishment along with Kestrel and some of the other men who had shown a glimmer of defiance, mostly those who had been brought in from outside the Wood.

Lily was, in the end, still Verona's sister by blood if no longer in name and she had asked a younger Analee to embark with them. Though she could show no favor to her estranged sister, she did still love her.

In fact, her mother had said, the last message Verona had received from Analee was that Lily had borne twin girls from Kestrel's seed. The eldest by several minutes had been named Willa, the younger Nayda.

And now, following the news that Lily's young tribe had been wiped out and further news of this Guyver creature, most notably that it was a man named Lisker, Verona seemed colder. She was becoming more and more convinced that he was arming the outsider village Watershed against them.

Natalie, for her part, wondered exactly what she would do to censure Lisker. If Analee's message was accurate, which Verona certainly seemed to think so, then what good were bows and arrows against the power Lisker possessed? What good were any of their weapons?

Though she would not say so aloud, Natalie believed Verona to be wrong about Lisker's intentions. She thought that the Guyver had no interest in the Wood at all. She had ventured close enough to see Watershed more than once, and had noticed that the battlements along the walls seemed to serve a defensive purpose. She had not been sent in with the spies, warriors dressed as merchants and buyers, and was not privy to their reports, but it seemed Watershed was preparing to weather an attack, not unleash one.

Besides, Lisker had saved her life. She knew that death had awaited at the end of the brutal gang rape he had prevented. She could not help herself, but she believed that Verona was wrong.

Not that she'd mention that.

Though power still flowed through the wires and conduits behind the thick concrete walls so far below the surface, none of the overhead light fixtures were operational. He found it astonishing that any of the computer monitoring systems functioned at all, much less as many as they had found. The words written in red along the walls were a form of ideograms, he surmised. He knew from the limited data Ratar-O had provided that this place was known as the China branch of Kronos, Xiangyou. Mu Tsu. Shan Pu. Whatever. He had no use for an extinct language.

Doctor Gireg scratched his beak thoughtfully as the Simians before him manned cutting torches to a particularly stubborn door. An Avian of the Buzzard Clan, not to be confused with Vultures, his frame was slight beneath the thin white coat which adorned his feathers and draped down to the kilt-like wrap which kept him covered. It was a symbol of his success, that lab coat, that he was indeed superior to the mental midgets which surrounded him. Gireg didn't mind that it irritated the hell out of the feathers which ringed his shoulders.

The lamps which had been carried down to this door glowed like miniature suns, yet the area they illuminated only made the darkness around the periphery stand out more, as though the shadows were alive with ancient secrets and knowledge. Despite his scientific background, Dr. Gireg still held some of Mutantkind's ancient superstitions. His disciplined mind allowed him to dismiss the creeping feeling that they were all playing with forces best left buried and forgotten.

His own desire for power and prestige, another trait of Mutantkind, urged him onward with as much intensity as his scientific curiosity. Ratar-O had not deigned to tell any of the teams toiling in the depths of Third Earth what, exactly, they were looking for. They were to download all available data from the still-functioning computers (primitive things, in Gireg's opinion) and to bring up any and all equipment and viable biological samples they could. That last part confirmed to him why a biologist whose specialty was in theoretical genetics was brought along. Why most of the technical staff under his command were biologists of one stripe or another.

_As such, _he thought, _whatever is behind what is obviously a secutiry door must be part of whatever we came here for. How interesting..._ Gireg's first, and very correct, thought that it was a bioweapon of some sort. His second was that this sample, or whatever, would not be logged into the official inventory. Gireg's third thought was that this would go a long way toward having a leader put in place who was truly worthy to command. His last thought was that he'd enjoy sitting in Ratar-O's command chair. These happy fantasies played in his mind until the sounds of torches cutting metal ceased.

"We're through!" A Simian hooted.

"I see that. Now, open this door and let's have a look about."

The chamber, even though the only light was from handlamps which cast wide beams of white, was obviously a research area. The floorspace stretched for several meters to the left and right with disused microscopes and centrifuges resting curiously without a layer of dust. The air circuation had not failed in here as it had in some other areas of the subterrainian complex. The air was noticably colder, raising gooseflesh on his exposed pink skin. In the shadows was a low and steady hum, what his brain identified as a mechanical sound. Gireg shone his light over to the right, seeking out the source of the sound and moving as carefully as he could manage. There was no telling what kind of junk he might step on or trip over.

"Spooky shit..." one of the Simians said with a slight tremble in his voice.

"Nothin's down here," the other replied, yet Gireg heard the note which gave lie to those words. They were both about to start jumping at shadows, the idiots. The hum grew steadily louder and his light finally fell on the source.

The machine was shaped like a morbidly obese bullet, pointed at its top and tapering to a wide flat bottom on the floor. A single frosted window reflected like a milky eye staring implacably back at him in what was obviously an air-tight door. Gireg reached a tentative hand to the device and recoiled despite himself. It was cold, _damn_ cold.

"Cryogenic storage?" he mused aloud. There had to be biological samples within, kept preserved by the coils which pumped cold air into the small space. The fact that it still functioned was more than amazing. It seemed to be destiny as far as he was concerned.

"Want us to torch it open?" a Simian asked.

"No, you dimwit. You'll only damage the contents. Bring the cryopack." Minutes later, as he was puzzling over the opening mechanism, they returned with the device. It was compact, flat, and had a small liquid nitrogen cooling system for sample preservation. Gireg reached out to the control surface and carressed the dimly-lit keypad. He punched in a random series of numbers and letters to see if...

Icy cold air began to hiss out of vents recessed in the storage chamber as the air pressure inside, lower than outside, sucked in a breath of relative warmth. His heart pounded, his beak salivated, and Gireg peered into the guts of the machine. On a shelf, sitting innocuously, was a black cylinder with various writings printed on it in the same language as the walls. Handling instrucions, most likely, as well as a strange marking that he found was seemingly written in Standard.

ATT-066.

"Load it into the cryopack," Dr. Gireg ordered, "and carry it directly to my lab aboard Warhammer. Do not inventory it, and make sure Ratar-O reads that this room was another empty chamber." The two left to carry out his instructions, and Gireg unknowingly released a monster upon Third Earth.

The cycle of night and day repeated as it had since time immemorial.

Bengali sat firm on his seat beside Pumyra's bed. Her back was flat, legs resting in stirrups for the past two hours. Her cries had echoed deep within his soul as her labor truly began, and had become rapidly more strident as Siberias knelt between her legs and Kyranna kept holding her other hand and draping her forehead with a cool cloth. Bengali kept silent as Pumyra's moans became strident screams.

"PUSH!"

"GYYAAAHH!"

He felt himself torn at Pumyra's screams. She sounded as if a legion of demons were tormenting her. Pumyra's face was scrunched in pure agony as Siberias order her once more to push. A draping blanket kept Siberias hidden from view, as well as Pumyra's lower body.

"Keep pushing! Good girl! You can do it!" the elder Tyger encouraged. Bengali found himself utterly confused. Pumyra would come close to embracing him before pushing him away. She would cry out his name before cursing him for putting her through such torment. She grasped his hand as though she would crush it from need of him before shoving it away.

"Push, that's right, almost there..."

He watched as seemingly every visible inch of her flesh tightened. A low guttural howl of pain escaped her clenched teeth, as though she were expelling the very core of herself from the junction of her legs and her clutching fingers threatened to fracture the bones of his hand. Bengali felt utterly lost in the moment, as though he were the fifth wheel, surplus to requirements. All he could do was give her his hand and look on as she suffered to bring Darin into being beyond her womb. Given his part in the event that led her to this point, he felt he should be able to do far more than sit and stare yet knew that this was indeed all he could give her. His support and the occaisional apology. He felt, all told, utterly ridiculous.

"He's crowned!" Siberias crowed from the other side of the concealing sheet. "The head is clear! One more push, Pumyra, you can do it!"

"Just one more," Kyranna said from her other side. One of her hands was occupied with Pumyra's, the other stroking her forehead lovingly. "One more, girl, come on..."

"uuuUAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" It was a roar of deep-seated pain which rended Bengali's heart. It trailed off into the otherwise empty Medical Wing and became the ultimate sigh of relief. Deeper and greater than any moan or sigh he'd heard pass her lips during and after sex, it struck him on the most profound levels just before the first wailing cries sounded from opposite the sheet.

"You both have done well," Siberias said with a broad smile as he produced Darin, still shiny from the fluids of her womb even after having been cleaned with a sterile moist cloth, and brought him to her eager arms. A small piece of tissue stuck fom his navel, the knotted end of the umbilical cord, Bengali realized belatedly. He hadn't even noticed Siberias performing those tasks.

"Darin..." Pumyra practically sobbed as she cradled the newborn. His skin was pale brown with faint patterns of stripes. He already had a short mane in the manner of Tygers, yet the coloration was pure brown with a stripe of white atop the scalp. Bengali stared at his son in complete disbelief. It was very nearly absurd how much love burst in his heart at the sight of their son.

Here was this new life recently brought into the world, shrivelled and tiny. Naked and defenseless. Yet, he already had such _power_ over them both. They would guide him, protect him, shelter him, and love him unconditionally. This was the power of life, of love, of all that was right and good about existence. Here was the madness which his race had battled with since the loss of Thundera, here was the agony and shame his rescued countrymen had endured, here was the insanity of the Mutant War, and here was the night of passion which led to eleven months of emotional upheaval and the pain of childbirth, all vindicated and absolved in one brilliant moment of joy and wonder.

_I am so not ready for this,_ Bengali thought. _Forgive me in advance, son._

"He's beautiful..." Bengali's words left his lips without his concious knowledge.

"Darin..." Pumyra kissed the cub's forehead, her eyes still wide and unbelieving. Bengali gazed at his son, and marvelled at the sight. For an instant, he wondered how something that size could have passed through an opening so small. Bengali discarded the thought at once. It was unimportant.

"Good job, doc," Kyranna said as she came to Siberias' side.

"I must admit, this is one of the more enjoyable perks of my profession," the elder Tyger replied around a wide grin. "Here is hoping that many other women will come through those doors seeking our assistance with just such a matter. If you will excuse me a moment?"

Bengali barely heard their conversation.

"Medical Wing to Control Center."

"Control Center," Lion-O said after picking himself up from the banks of conduits beneath the mostly-assembled workstation and palming the button on the comm.

"It is my very great pleasure to announce," Siberias' voice began, "that as of ten minutes previous, the population of New Thundera Colony increased by one."

"Great news!" Lion-O said over the cheers of those currently working to get Cat's Lair's command center up and running fully.

"Young Darin is hale and healthy and... already hungry it seems."

"He's Bengali's cub, alright," he said with a wink.

"I heard that!" A round of raucous laughter filled the chamber at that, finally fading after a few moments.

"We'll stop by as soon as we get the chance."

"I understand. Medical Wing out."

The news of Darin's birth brought a light to Panthro's thoughts as he and Cheetara inventoried the contents of the Gelnika. He had kept his tally of usable components automatically as his conscious mind wrestled with how to broach the subject he wished to discuss with her. Tygra was absent, finishing the catalogueing of SkyTomb. Despite himself, Panthro recalled the remains of human men and women frozen into the wall of Chilla's quarters and his stomach churned. He'd never fully appreciated until that moment the Lunattak's unbelievable streak of cruelty. Panthro found relief in the word from his fellows that she had been murdered by Grune.

"Say, that's great to hear," he said casually, facing across the bridge to where she sat accessing engine schematics.

"It certainly is."

_She's expecting this,_ Panthro thought with a mental sigh. Sixth sense or no, Cheetara had a way of reading people like open books. In some respects, it made things easier. In others, it made things nigh impossible.

"So," he began and forgot all pretenses, "have you made any plans for the future?"

"What kind of plans?" she replied calmly.

"You know what kind. The kind that result in what's going on in the Medical Wing."

"I don't see how that's any of your concern." He noticed her muscles tensing, knew that he was treading a minefield. Panthro did not want to offend his friend, and to be honest he knew he would likely piss her off to the moon, but this needed to be hashed out.

"Look, I don't want the details. I just want to know if you plan on wedding him or not."

"Is now really the time?" Cheetara turned in her seat, and Panthro clearly saw the smoldering anger in her bright eyes. "There's the oh-so-small matter of building a home for our people to deal with, not to mention the nagging details of helping him become an effective king."

"Kings need heirs..." Panthro realized his mistake just a half-second too late.

"Oh, so that's all I'm supposed to be?" Cheetara snarled the question, and Panthro braced himself. He was not disappointed. "Just so long as I take the oath, spread my legs, and pop out future kings for our people, things will be right as rain around here?"

"That's not what I meant!"

"Just to clear the air in here, I'm not with Lion-O just as a shot at being called Queen Cheetara, got it? I love him, and I'll be with him because of that! Our relationship is _not_ about prestige, or power, or even satisfying my own biological needs! I want what's best for him, for us, and for our people."

"Love and honor don't always go hand in hand," Panthro said, his own ire rising. "What if what's best for him is to leave him?"

"If it comes to that, then I'll do it. Even if it shatters my heart into a thousand jagged shards. Is that what you wanted me to say? Are you satisfied now?"

"I'm not saying you should!" Panthro shouted. "Damnit, this is turning into a real Plun-Darr firedrill. Look, all I'm saying is that the sooner you two are joined, the sooner neither of you will have to risk... well... any accidents." As soon as the words were out, Panthro wished he could take them back.

"I can't believe this," she growled. "Do you honestly think we don't know the first thing about being careful? What, do you believe that all we do in our tent is screw like mad? Well? DO YOU?!" Panthro recoiled at the anger and hurt in her voice. "Aside from the fact that all the work has put one serious wet blanket on our sex life, I know my own fertility cycle! I know when horizontal aerobics will result in getting knocked up and when it won't!" Panthro rarely heard Cheetara use such coarse words and knew his earlier thought wasn't entirely accurate. Cheetara was now pissed off well past the moon, probably into the sector of the galaxy Thundera had once been.

"As far as loving him," she continued, "I do. Where marrying him is concerned, I want to. We both do, but now isn't the time. Had it ever occurred to you that we might have talked some about this?" It hadn't, in fact, but Panthro didn't need to say it.

_Yeah, I fucked this one all the way up,_ Panthro thought sourly.

"I'm..."

"No. Don't say anything to me. Not now." Her words were cooler, downright icy in fact. Cheetara rose from her seat and left without so much as a backward glance. Panthro knew it would be a long while before she cooled down enough to even consider accepting an apology. Right then, she was hot enough to set off a Geiger counter.

The torch cast dancing light in the rapidly deepening shadows which reached across Watershed as night got into full swing. It sat in an iron bracket above his head and the door before which he stood guard. On the other side were new weapons, blades made from that new metal and the thundersticks Lisker called muskets alongside the gunpowder used to set them off. Metal that was lighter and stronger than iron, and kept its edge one right good patch, imagine that!

Though not overburdened with learning, Benjamin was far from stupid. His family had come to Watershed when his pappy was a stripling, and they had raised and harvested grain from the first day they threw seeds at the ground. Benjamin himself had taken up the family trade, until the Clutch came. He loved this town, his neighbors, and he knew that if a man didn't fight for what he loved, he never loved it at all. If his part right then was to make sure no one got into the armory who didn't have good reason, then he'd do his part with a smile.

Beneath that, however, Benjamin was still a man. He still had vulnerabilities and flaws like the next man.

He noticed the form as it neared the edge of torchlight, seeming to glide just above the cobbled street of the alley which led to the door. This time of night, not many folks were up and his hand almost made it to the hilt of his fine new sword when the soft giggle reached his ears.

"Can't let ya in here," he said unsteadily as she came closer, just enough for him to see. Her midnight hair cascaded over her shoulders, barely covering her breasts.

_Naked,_ his mind thought, stunned. _Naked as the day she was born, and if that ain't the most come-hither stare I've ever seen, I'll have my boots for breakfast._ He looked down at the pressure mounting on his groin, and boy-HOWDY what a tent he was pitchin' in his front yard! He cast his eyes back upward, drinking her in without realizing it. Torchlight wavered and flickered about her, shifting the shadows and he missed just how toned her legs were as they sauntered up to him, almost near enough to reach out for those firm breasts but not quite there.

"C'n I... help you?" he asked numbly. He'd known a woman or two, but he'd never seen one so damned ornery that she'd walk up to him raw in the middle of the street! Alley... Clear and concise thought was getting tough to manage. She smiled at him, a teasing twist of the lips which very nearly shut down everything in his head that didn't involve banging her like a screen door in a windstorm. As such, he only barely registered the thought that the two women he'd bedded, or who'd bedded him depending on how you looked at it, hadn't had taut stomachs like this one did. He'd never seen a woman so... fit... before. She stepped back slowly, those bedroom eyes still promising him the ride of his life as she turned about. She looked at him over her shoulder, and without a word she'd told him exactly what she wanted.

Inside Benjamin's brain, some part of himself which cared about duty in general and his own in particular, tried to shout that he was seriously considering leaving his post to bag some tail and that logic dictated this was not a Smart Thing. She began to saunter away, drawing his eyes to her rear, and this part of him found itself quited toot-sweet. He followed her lock-step, already having forgotten about his post...

Neva's come-hither stare turned to disgust as the guardsman fell in a limp heap from the blow to the back of his head. Two of her sisters from the Wood, a statuesque blonde woman named Wrin and a willowy brunette called Sevo, had kept hidden in the shadows which she had lured the hapless male into.

"Remind me why I agreed to be the one to do this," she nearly groaned as Wrin handed her pants and vest back to her. The material was thin, gossamer along the legs and arm, and blue as afternoon sky. The trio had posed as dancers to gain entrance to Watershed, though the dances they performed were in truth excercises to hone one's battle skills and the dullards hadn't noticed.

"Because it was your idea," Sevo pointed out. "Who better to strut about in the nude and preen for this dolt?"

"I have his keys," Wrin said, taking them and the sword from his belt. Without another word, they entered the armory and the acrid smell of the strange powder hit them all at once. Minutes later, the three emerged each carrying a sword made of the new metal, and Neva cradled one of the long musket things against her chest. Their exit the next day was unhindered.

"Right then," Gireg said as he placed the vial of viscous, milky liquid into the slot of the analyzing computer, "let's uncover your secrets, hmm?" The machine rose from floor to ceiling in the south portion of his laboratory, various lights winking on and off around the periphery of the large screen which dominated the center of the device and the glossy smooth control surface. Buttons and knobs had been forgone in favor of touch-sensitive lights beneath the cool material. The biomatter in the vial reminded him uncomfortably of semen, and he repressed a small shudder before initializing the process.

"Hmm... Unknown cellular structure... I've never seen DNA coding like this!" Gireg, despite his ambitions, found himself in awe at the discovery of an entirely new life form. He watched the strand of adenine, thymine, guanine, and cytokine twist and shift, altering their configurations seemingly with a will of its own. "Hyper-mutagenic DNA... Could it replicate other genetic profiles?" he asked himself as he watched the process accellerate.

_It's still alive,_ he thought incredulously. _Fuck me with a plasma rifle, this damn thing is still kicking!_ His taloned fingers tapped instructions into the computer, giving him a cellular-level view and found himself astonished at first, and was soon to be terrified.

"Cellular mytosis..." he breathed. "They're dividing!" Gireg looked closer. "That can't be right!" he cried. "Cells don't divide this rapidly!" He checked and rechecked the data and found that the cells were dividing at roughly ten to the power of eighty faster than any normal organism. Gireg looked again and what had once been a relatively small cluster of cells became a blanket as mytosis shot up to ten to the power of four hundred times normal.

_Get that damn thing back on ice!_ He screamed at himself, yet he found his eyes glued to the monitor. Gireg forced himself to move, grasping the tongs with which he'd inserted the sample and grasping the vial before tearing it free. The cryopack was still on the table at the far end of the room, and he made a mad dash for it. Halfway, though, it happened.

The vial itself began to pulse and crack just before the semen-like substance erupted from its shattered container. All of it splashed against Gireg's chest, warm and sticky and just plain foul. For a moment, he found himself puzzled at how all of it seemed directed at him rather than in a radial pattern before a giddy thought occurred to him.

_It just came on me,_ he thought and wanted to laugh at that. _Whatever this is just busted a nut on my chest. How about that shit?!_

It was one of the last rational thoughts Doctor Gireg would ever have.

His body seized, and had he time later to reflect on it, he would have realized sooner what was happening. His chest continued to draw breath, though his brain was becoming starved of oxygen. As though, and this would have been a head-scratcher had complete madness not bloomed in his mind in the manner of a mushroom cloud, the air his lungs continued to draw in were being diverted to another dominant organ.

Gireg felt it gathering, seeming to displace him as his chest still heaved yet his brain drew no fresh oxygen. A curious sensation arose from his right shoulder as the flesh bubbled and grew and began to rise. A wide, jagged deformation appeared as it took shape, a ragged hole ripped itself into his own flesh with narrow strips of skin still connecting the sides before snapping apart. A pair of eyes, both glowing a faint violet, seemed to boil into existence in the rapidly developing face.

_Eating me..._ he thought as the darkness swelled up, _It's eating me alive..._

"There's not much to you," the head which grew from him said and all sensation vanished, "but you're a lifesaver all the same. Guess I should thank you, stranger. Whatever you are." Gireg's arm, his own everfucking arm!, reached up to grasp his head and the Mutant's last sight was of his own limb shoving his head downward into whatever this creature had turned his body into...

"Bleeechhh," Aptom spat as the DNA emulation completed and the strange being's body became his own. Another of the tens of thousands which had preceeded him. The labcoat stretched across his powerful frame, and the strange kilt hung to just mid-thigh. He took a halting, stumbling step as knowledge washed through his brain like a tidal wave, memories, loves, hates, desires...

"Mutant...?" Gireg's knowledge became his own, images of associates, underlings, a place called Plun-Darr... He forced it back, slowed the rushing torrent of experiences that were not his own.

"WhaFUCK?!" This had never happened to him before, despite all the zoanoids he had eaten. He'd gotten their powers, their forms, but never their minds and memories. _Then again,_ he mused, _I've never eaten one of these Mutants before._ Aptom stared down at himself, feeling curiously weak. His skin rippled as he tried to form something simple, a Ramotith type. Bright purple fur began to peek from his skin before shrinking back.

"Must've been kept chilly for too long," he said to himself. "Need to get my strength up." The only problem he could determine was that these so-called Mutants provided jack-shit for nourishment. He searched Gireg's memories, repressing a shudder at the thought of another's life being in his own head, and knew that there were hundreds of them on board this ship. Weak as he was, if he was discovered, they could overpower him with their strange weapons. Aptom searched further, recognizing much of what he saw there as Kronos technology.

Aptom strode over to the lone stool opposite the long table on which a familiar canister with a quite familiar production number rested and stared at it for a while. ATT-066. Aptom shook his head at that, he was far from another one of their failed experiments. The presence of these strange aliens confirmed that Kronos had gone the way of the dinosaurs, tits up... He stopped himself before he could continue raving. Something had happened, and now these Plun-Darr people were unearthing Kronos installations.

Several possibilities and a few certainties came to him in a rush, and Aptom was coming to appreciate how he had absorbed Gireg's knowledge as well as his body. One Ratar-O, Mutant Grand High Potentate et al, had uncovered the remains of Kronos, and wanted to get his hot little hands on some Zoanoids. Aptom threw back his head and laughed heartily at the notion.

_That numbfuck doesn't know what kind of fire he's playing with,_ Aptom thought, almost giddy, _and when this one burns him, he'll go up like a Roman candle on the Fourth of July!_ Aptom froze for a moment, lost in thoughts not quite his own.

He slapped the flat, sterile tabletop. While far from an expert, he had been part of Kronos, and Valkus' twisted experiments, long enough to pick up the basics of the optimization process. After rebelling against them, he had managed to infiltrate other Kronos sites and glean data from their systems here and there. With the knowledge he'd gained, it was entirely possible that he could assist this Ratar-O in his efforts to bring back zoanoids or, more accurately, his food supply. A few of these Mutants would have to contribute to the cause, both as raw materials and as ready meals, but he thought Ratar-O had planned on the first and would not notice the second until it was too late. And then...

_What?_

It was a disturbing notion. What could he possibly do after that? The most dangerous lifeform on the planet, and absolutely no purpose to his existence. Conquest and domination over what sentient beings existed on this planet Gireg's memories called Third Earth? Aptom waved the notion off. He decided to table the issue for the time being. Aptom was, if nothing else at the moment, the ultimate survivor. That would be enough.

For now.

Once more among the world, the being known as Aptom poses as Doctor Gireg in his effort to enable Ratar-O to manufacture Zoanoids from the compliment of Mutants beneath him. Will his decision not to reveal the existence, or necessity, of zoalords help or ultimately hinder their efforts?

Stay tuned for the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	7. Kidnapped

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode Seven

He sat with his head bowed, Lisker saw, and his face had been tomato red for the past hour. Lisker tried not to growl deep in his throat, kept his calm as best he was able. Reminded himself of the axiom of best laid plans.

"I''m powerful sorry," Benjamin said. The Marine in him wanted to cram as much of his boot up that farmer's ass as he could get in one kick, and he reminded himself that he wasn't dealing with soldiers. Not even warriors, come to that. Just some people who were frightened for the future of their home.

"Who was she?"

"I think she was one a' those dancin' women that came in a few days ago," Benjamin replied. "She came up to me..." his voice faded from what had to be crushing humiliation.

"And she looked great naked," Lisker finished for him. Benjamin's head shot up and the look of stunned surprise on his otherwise plain and square face was comical. "Thought it was something like that. Look, next time you sprout wood, keep it in your pants."

"Yessir, I'm..."

"Powerful sorry, I heard you." Lisker sat in the stuffed chair before Gil's fireplace Benjamin had just vacated when he heard the man close the door behind his exit. He ran a hand down the front of his face in frustration at the stupidity of that farmboy, even though he could more than understand it.

"Lisker," Maria said as she came up to him. She attended planning sessions more frequently, he noticed, and was glad for it. In recent weeks, Maria was coming out of her former shell, taking interests in things he wouldn't think a Wollo woman would. "Wasn't that first part a little... sexist?" She said the last as though it felt unfamiliar on her tongue. It was maybe the third time she'd used it since he'd told her what the word meant.

"Not so much," Gil replied from his position to the left of the stone hearth.

"It's like this," Lisker explained. "Most men will stare at anything female and naked. Or female and clothed. Or female in general. Something of a weakness in the gender."

"She used it well enough," Gil said. "They didn't take much, at least. Clutch spies?"

"I'd say Warrior Maiden," Maria piped up, drawing looks from Lisker, Gil, and Dendel.

"I'd have to agree with her," the Bolkin said.

"Lisker?" Gil asked.

"Seems most likely," he said. "Care to explain, Maria?"

"Well, it seems perfectly justified to me, if that's the right word. Watershed and the Warrior Maidens around here have lived in peace for years, even if neither's overly friendly with each other. Now, they see us putting up battlements and training an army of sorts. What do you expect?"

"But, it's not like we're planning to attack them!"

"They don't know that, Dendel," Lisker said in repsonse. "But, here's hoping they do now."

"That might be a faint hope," Gil said, his face darkening slightly. "This tribe is headed by a woman named Verona. I've had... some experience dealing with her." The shadow passed across his eyes so fast Lisker wasn't entirely sure he caught it. "Once she gets her mind made up about something, getting her to change it is a cun... a hair away from impossible." Gil tried never to use his more colorful expressions around either Maria or William. "Until now, we left them alone and they left us alone."

"Until now," Lisker repeated. "I don't think this Verona is gonna try anything, at least not right away. Neither side has any sort of advantage."

"Unless they team up with the Clutch, and I don't think that's likely."

"If Verona comes to us, her warriors have to move and fight over open ground. If we go to them..."

"Lisker!"

"Just making a point, Maria. If we went to them, they'd have the higher ground, so to speak. They're used to fighting in the trees, and even the weapons we have now wouldn't do much good with so much in the way. We know that, she knows that. For now, it's a stalemate. The only info we know they don't have are our battle plans and about, well, me." Lisker, though he could not know it, was only half correct on that one.

"Our advance scouts haven't reported any signs of them," Gil said, closing the topic. "I'm beginning to wonder if they're coming at all."

"Ran with their tails between their legs and are off looking for someone whose teeth aren't as sharp? Possible, but I doubt it."

"As do I, Lisker," Gil replied. The meeting broke up, then, with Gil seeing Maria and Lisker to the front door. Lisker stepped out into a late summer's day, thick clouds overhead promising rain fairly soon. Despite the oncoming inclement weather, the muted roar of haggling, heckling, and other such sounds lent the air a sense of vitality that he would never have imagined Watershed capable of on his first visit. He felt Maria's fingers intwine with his own and the two walked, glancing at now-occupied storefronts and people bustling away on whatever business brought them from their homes. It warmed him, that sight, and the knowledge that it came about because of him. Of Maria, to be more precise, she had been the one to browbeat him to it.

_Still and all,_ he thought, _it's worth it._

"Something on my chin?" he asked once he felt Maria's eyes locked onto his face. Her expression was intent, questioning.

"You said most men will stare at anything female in general."

"Sad, but true. We're skirt chasers, for the most part."

"So, why don't I see you ogling every pretty girl that walks by?" Her voice had a faint teasing note to it. Maria was becoming better and better at flirting, as well. Lisker wondered if, had they never met, she would be even close to who she was now.

"I caught the last skirt I chased," Lisker said around a grin and from behind knowing eyes. "And I didn't want to let her go."

"This skirt," she said primly, "didn't run very far, did she?"

"And she seems to have grown a fondness for pants over skirts." Maria had taken to wearing the garment more and more after having become used to it.

"Speaking of," Maria said, and the look in her eyes was unmistakeable even if one didn't know her as well as he did. He leaned down when she beckoned with her index finger, "she also likes to wear nothing at all." Her whispered voice in his ear was enough.

"Aren't we naughty today?"

"Come on," she said, "I'm hungry, and there's something I want you to see after lunch. I was going to wait, but... well... you'll see."

Lisker walked through the busy streets of Watershed and, for a moment, the Warrior Maidens and the Clutch were far from his mind.

Night fell again in the former PRC, and Aptom meandered through the corridors of the Warhammer apparently without aim. At least, while wearing Dr. Gireg's shape, that was the image he wanted to cultivate. He kept his expression calm and ordered, which was proving somewhat challenging. Zoanoids had no real facial expression beyond enraged, mean, and generally overjoyed at ripping things to bloody shreds while in battle form. Though the beak he was currently sporting made keeping a leer off his face easy enough, it was tougher to keep it from his eyes.

Over the past days, he had come to a few conclusions regarding his current state. He lacked sufficient bioenergy to assume a zoanoid body. Even a simple Ramotith had proven beyond the limits of his strength, and that had been a bitter disappointment. Ramotiths, the joke had been, were so easy to optimize it took a deliberate effort to fuck them up.

Aptom wondered, as his eyes searched casually for the one he had set out for, how many of these Mutants he would have to absorb to regain the strength to assume a proper zoanoid form. Surely enough for someone to notice, that was certain. Also, it was something he could not avoid regardless. He had felt himself weakening over the course of the past several days, losing cohesion on the cellular level. He had been kept frozen for too long, and his body simply could no longer hold and generate the bioenergy needed to keep him alive. Each Mutant was another fix, and to his relief each seemed to last a little longer than before. He had only eaten four, and those had been written off as deserters, yet he still felt as though some eyes were at the very least searching for him. Gireg's memories, as well as the monkey and three jackals he'd made sustenance of, indicated strongly that none of them here would run out on Ratar-O, mostly for fear of a reprisal cruel enough to make even a former Kronos monster flinch. Hate him they did, fear him they definitely did, and as such few had the testicular fortitude to cut and run or try to overthrow him.

_Charming fellow,_ Aptom thought. _Here I thought all the good villians were in novels by that guy from Maine._ He continued his casual gait down into the lower levels of the Warhammer and barely hid the grimace at the smell. The stink of tears and sex was potent down here, and rightly so according to the memories he had somehow gleaned from the Mutants he had absorbed.

In Plun-Darr society, he had learned, women got the shaft both literally and figuratively. In its own way, Aptom had thought, it was very much like Victorian England, just without all the rituals and the veneer of finery. Females on Plun-Darr were slaves in every sense of the word. They were taught so from birth and molded to accept it as their lot in life. On ships such as Warhammer, they were kept in the holds in conditions which not even a simpleton could call comfortable. The dank spaces were kept warm and clean enough, but that was about it.

Aptom, however, cared nothing for it. He needed sustenance, and had realized that here it was and no one would much care. They milled about listlessly, unable to change their position in life and taught not to care overmuch. That suited him fine, given that not all of them survived a night with an officer.

Aptom spotted her and nearly winced despite what he had gleaned from Gireg's memories. She was of Reptillian lineage, yet she looked so different from males of that clan. Her form was thin, upright even. Though her skin, and quite a bit of it showed due to the fact that she was nude along with the others in this foul-smelling pit, was not mottled, he could see where some of the scales were beginning to flake off. Gireg's memories indicated her to be the scientist's favorite and for reasons far too lascivious to mention other than the fact that she had overcome her gag reflex.

_A bird boinking a lizard?_ Aptom thought with faint traces of wonder and disgust. Her tail barely reached the floor, and some small spark of life still shone in her eyes. Her head and body were entirely without hair, which was common among Reptillians. She saw him coming, and the gleam of lust in her eyes was mostly artificial. She had serviced Gireg more than a few times.

She was, all in all, perfect.

He gestured with his beak the way Gireg always would, and she moved to wait for him in one of the more shadowed places on the lower decks. Rina liked Gireg, Aptom remembered, because he was kinder than the others. Gireg did not beat her, just wanted his blowjob before leaving her to her own station once more. Despite himself, Aptom felt a twinge of pity for someone so obviously broken as her.

Such didn't matter, however. He wasn't Gireg, and he needed something more than she usually gave.

"Hey, baby," she said in her always-tired voice. Aptom moved in, shoving her against the bulkhead and roughly grasping her breasts. He silenced her with a kiss that he managed not to barf into while the enzymes when to work.

"Just so you know," he said in his natural voice, "this might be the best end you could have hoped for." Aptom saw the terror in her eyes as his hands sank into her breasts and the process began. She lost her voice before she could scream, his hands having sunk into her chest and drawing her into himself. Aptom braced for the mental agony which would come with her memories.

Pain...

Degradation...

Humiliation...

Please, why does it have to be this way...

Oh, please no more...

It HURRRRTSS!...

...Even if I could find those ThunderCats, they wouldn't care...

...Just a Mutant...

No... hope...

Let my end be painless...

Aptom recovered much later, curled into a ball near the darkest part of the bulkhead and was relieved no one had apparently seen him. Rina's memories still haunted his thoughts as he drew himself up and made sure the visage of Dr. Gireg was still firmly in place.

Rina's life had been true hell. A hell Aptom had lived in minature. Kept as a sex toy, and nothing more...

_Stop it,_ Aptom told himself, yet the thoughts of the Reptillian woman he had absorbed were still his own. He slowly brought himself under control and put her whirling agonies in the back of his mind. He had done her a favor, all told. She would feel no more whips or herself invaded. On top of that, she was part of him now.

He hated the Mutants, not merely because of her own thoughts in his head. He would use them. In Aptom's eyes, they were only raw materials, but when it came time, he would assist Ratar-O in his making of zoanoids. He would ensure the Mutant commander would have all the zoanoids he'd need for whatever he was planning and that Aptom himself would have all the sustenance necessary to fully regain his strength. He toyed with the idea of stowing away for the return trip to Plun-Darr. Making Mutantkind an extinct race seemed more attractive with each day.

"You have done well," Verona said to the three kneeling warriors before her. She reclined in her throne of wicker, one shapely leg draped over the other while she fingered the longsword in her hands. The metal was indeed light, not as ponderous as an iron blade. It rang when she struck it, a tone nearly musical in its clarity and the edge was keener than any she had beheld or wielded herself. "What do they call this metal?"

"Steel, M'lady," Wrin answered. "I've heard tell it is made by refining iron somehow." Verona gazed upon the longsword for a moment before resheathing it and drawing up the musket. Its length was nearly ridiculous, yet its very appearance screamed death. Verona knew that if the outsiders of Watershed invaded, they would be facing the Warrior Maidens on their own turf. With Lisker on their side, her people might be staring down their own doom.

"Wrin."

"M'lady!"

"Fetch Natalie and Solange." Several minutes later, the two women knelt before her. They rose at her command. "We know where Lisker spends his nights with the Wollo. From what our spies tell me, they love each other. I know," she said at the doubtful looks she received, "it is most peculiar, but I have no reason to doubt it. As things stand now, Watershed already has us at a terrible disadvantage. Were it not for the presence of Lisker and his power as a Guyver, this would not be so. We must move, and quickly, to censure him."

"What is your wish, M'lady?" Solange asked.

"I am loathe to undertake such an endeavor, but Lisker's main vulnerability is the Wollo woman. If we hold her, we hold him at bay."

"Is this wise?" Natalie inquired. "Wouldn't that only bring Lisker here with the intent of finding her?"

"Which he will be unable to do," Verona explained, her voice terse. "Sending more warriors into Watershed is impractical now, I am certain they will be watching for women of the Wood. Wrin, Sevo, and Neva are to keep watch over the home of Lisker. When the opportunity arises, take the Wollo. Natalie and Solange will keep guard over her." Verona noted the slight tic at the corner of Natalie's left eye. "Solange, please remain. Everyone else, you are dismissed." Verona's eyes never left Natalie until she walked from view. "Watch her, Solange," she said. "Her heart doubts me, and her words question me. If she proves disloyal, bind her next to the Wollo and bring her to me once the Lisker matter is settled. I shall deal with her then."

"Hey!" Sho cried softly on entering the Medical Wing. Myrlha accompanied him into the sterile space whose walls were that same curious off-white as hospitals he remembered from Second Earth. Pumyra lay beneath a thin sheet with Bengali standing above her. Their eyes left his to focus on the newborn cub in his arms. "Looks like you were made for that, Pops."

"Guess I was," Bengali said as he slowly rocked Darin in his arms. "Never woulda thought it, though."

"You're doing fine," Pumyra said around a beaming smile.

"Hear you're gonna be back among us soon," Myrlha said with a sly grin.

"Another day in here, then I'm back on light duty."

"Same here," Bengali said.

"Nothing's come through the forge lately," Sho said, "I've checked. I'll be taking up the post full-time with you tomorrow."

"Sure you're up for that?" Bengali asked as he slowly rocked the sleeping Darin in his arms.

"Someone's gotta be," Sho said around a laugh. "Besides, if I can't handle it, I know who to call. If it involves vehicles or weapons, I'll leave it to you. I don't want Panthro chewing me a new one over faulty armor plates."

"Then consider that your next lesson in smithing," Bengali said as he continued to rock Darin.

"Got it."

"Uh-oh..." Pumyra said as the newborn began to stir and then cry. "I think someone needs a changing."

"You just fed him!"

"Almost three hours ago. C'mon, give him here."

"How do you..." Bengali stopped as Pumyra laid him atop her lap and undid the diaper. "Nevermind."

"I think we'll be going now," Myrlha said. "Congrats again, you two."

"Thanks." The two left, Sho just catching the smell and wondering how Pumyra had known so quickly.

"I heard that mothers have a weird way of knowing things," Sho said once in the hallway and away from the smell of Darin's latest contribution. "I guess it's true."

"My mom did, that's for sure," Myrlha replied. "She knew every time I wasn't doing something she'd told me to. It used to creep me out sometimes. Kinda like telepathy."

"You say so," Sho said, his voice a trifle sad. Myrlha regarded him for a moment. She had come to know when he was dwelling on his long-distant past, when memories from Second Earth were bubbling up from that blank place in his mind. Ever since their conversation atop the now-dismantled Tower of Omens, she had known what it meant when Sho got a thousand-meter stare on his face, and what he was thinking on could prove to be a sensitive matter for him.

"She also knew just when I was feeling down, even when I tried to hide it. She never failed to keep some soda berries handy for those times." She noticed his face fall a little more, and deduced what was troubling him. "I guess I shouldn't keep it up, huh?"

"It's fine," Sho said before taking a deep breath. "I'm just thinking about my own mom." They walked out of the Medical Wing and into the connecting corridors to the other vital areas of Cat's Lair. "I wish I could've met yours. I wonder what she'd think of us?" His tone brightened considerably at that.

"She'd have loved you, Sho," Myrlha replied warmly. "Trust me on that one." Myrlha thought of her mother then, at how she always worried about her girl not settling down with someone who deserved her, if at all. "So," she began, "what about your mom?"

"I don't know." Those three words brought Myrlha up short. "Dad and I lost her when I was a kid."

"Oh..."

"Don't apologize," Sho said as he turned his saddened face to her. "I don't remember much of her because I was so young. All I have is a memory of a photo. Just the three of us. I was, oh, maybe four when it happened." Sho stared off again as memories from the times of her early ancestors played themselves in his mind. "After she died, it was just the two of us. It was rough at first, but we managed. Dad kept up a show of being all strong about it, but sometimes I'd catch him looking a pictures of her late at night. He'd cry over them, but in the morning he'd pretend that nothing was wrong. Sometimes, we'd look at those photo albums together, and I'd catch that look in his eye when he was trying not to cry. Dad never loved another woman." They neared the connecting hall to the main reception area of the lair, hearing the buzz of voices as people bustled to put the final pieces of the Lair in place. "Dad never told me what happened, and wouldn't talk about her much, and he never knew I'd seen him crying over her pictures. I'm glad you knew your mom so well."

"Sho..." _Just how much of your life on Second Earth was defined by tragedy?!_ she thought for a moment. "What was her name?"

"Akie Fukamachi."

"Nalla."

"Huh?"

"My mothter's name was Nalla."

"I really like that name."

"I'll tell you about her, if you want."

"Please," Sho said as they entered the foyer of Cat's Lair. "I'd really love that, Myrlha."

"Tonight, then?"

"My shcedule's clear for the rest of the day. We've gotta start moving our stuff in here soon."

"I've got kitchen duty tonight."

"Yeah. Well, I'll start moving stuff into our quarters. Shouldn't take too long. I hear Tygra's gonna power the whole grid up in a few days."

"I'll bring dinner." It had become common between them when one or the other had to pull a shift in the mess tent. One of them would, reeking of spices and meats, come home with a meal.

"I'm thinking candles," Sho said, his voice a bit playful as he eased an arm about her waist. "Quiet night, soft candlelight..."

"And afterward..."

"A surprise."

"Oh?" Sho could still, despite how well she knew him, throw her a curveball.

"You'll see," he said with a wink. "This is something I've been working towards for, oh, a couple millenia now." With that, Sho dashed away from her with a wink before vanishing among the gathered Thunderians and Berbils in Cat's Lair.

Though it had been neatly sheared off with a laser, and he hadn't screwed up the ingredients for the disinfectant, the stump had still healed badly. Foraging a living with only a single arm had proven tougher work than Grune would have imagined, yet he still had. Until recently.

It had been a small cut, a thorn bramble which had just pierced the puckered and ruined flesh, but it had been enough. Infection had set in with startling alacrity, and within two days the stump had become festered and raw. The balm he'd prepared was long since gone, and the ingredients necessary were nowhere in evidence up in the wilds of the north.

Burning with fever, Grune lay wasted and ill in the shade of an enormous maple, beathing in gasps and sweating as though he had swallowed a star. He barked out a weak laugh at how his quest to find another of the Guyver units had ended. Despite his legendary temper and titanium resolve, Grune the Destroyer was to be felled by a fucking microbe. _How about _that _shit?!_

Among the scents he could name was the almond smell of gangrene having its way with him. He glanced down at the swollen stump of his right arm, green and putrefying as the cells died and the flesh rotted. Grune idly wondered how far it would spread before the fever killed him. Not far, he hoped.

He saw Thundera around him as he slipped back into delerium, his fever having viciously spiked again. They walked around him, over him, not looking down. The bastards. He wanted to cry out for help, for succor from anyone, yet his throat was a narrow straw for air and nobody seemed to notice him, much less care that he was at death's door. He saw her, staring at him through the bustling crowd, her eyes a study in perfect sadness. Grune wanted to plead with her not to leave him this time, to beg forgiveness for all he had done, to let her know that it had been for her that he'd killed...

The world exploded around him, clouds of smoke and walls of flame as Thundera's capital city burned. Mutants swarmed about, kicking in doors and firing wildly at families who were huddled inside, and he saw the one he'd sold his people out to, walking toward him. Standing over him with the most incredulous look on his face.

"Well," the apparition said, "aren't you just a sorry sight?"

"He's burning up," another voice said.

"Dose him."

Grune was lost in a whirl of chaos just as merciful blackness claimed him.

"Well?" Ratar-O asked as Meliz knelt over the wasted form of Grune.

"He's in bad shape. We have the facilities aboard the Warhammer to stabilize him."

"The arm?"

"We can take care of that as well. Father, do you know this one?"

"Oh, yes. He and I go back a long way." Ratar-O had known Grune to be alive on Third Earth, said data having come to him from the Tower of Omens' computers via the Spy Star he'd dispatched. Years ago, when their raid on Thundera had been turned back, Ratar-O had traced the course of the vessel which bore Grune across the stars in stasis only to find that it had vanished in a quantum singularity. It had been a pity, Ratar-O had wanted to rip the rest of Grune's knowledge of ThunderCat protocols and strengths from his mind before killing him, but had been forced to give it up as a lost cause.

On finding, from the stolen data, that Grune had landed on this very planet centuries in the past and had assumed command of the Mutant Army once the creature Mumm-Ra had returned him to the mortal coil, Ratar-O had intended to track him down.

"Get him aboard the Rat-Star, and begin treatment. I need this one."

"Yes, sir."

The search had borne unexpected fruit, and Ratar-O knew he had to sieze this chance.

The return flight to the Warhammer had been uneventful, as had been the transfer of a Thunderian into one of the medical labs. Meliz looked over at Dr. Gireg, and again was struck by something in the Avian's manner he could not identify. He had never had any real dealings with the scientist, yet for some reason Meliz suddenly found himself wary of him.

"Who's the cat?" Gireg asked, irked at having his research interrupted.

"Someone who will be of use to me. See that he recovers fully."

"The rest of that arm has to go," the Buzzard said on inspecting the stump. "I'm gonna have to get him into surgery fast if you want him to live."

"Report as soon as his condition improves." Ratar-O turned to leave on the spot as Gireg began to hurriedly prep IVs and assemble antibiotics. The rest was lost as he followed his adopted father from the laboratory and into the corridor.

"If you'll excuse me, father, I have some matters to attend to."

"Very well." Meliz watched him go and then turned to stalk the opposite way. He could not base his suspicions about Gireg on anything solid and it was time to fix that. On spotting a Reptillian and a Scavenger on their routine security patrol, he stopped them both.

"You two," he said curtly, "your duties have been changed."

"To what, sssir?" the lizard asked with enough false respect to keep Meliz from killing him outright.

"Dr. Gireg. Follow him, note what he does, and report directly to me. If he so much as shits crooked, I want to know about it."

"Understood, sir," the jackal replied. Meliz nodded before continuing on his way.

He had noticed the disappearances among the rank and file, and had been unwilling to chalk it up to Mutants deserting. Where would they go on the galactic equivalent of bumfuck? Their best chance of survival lay with Ratar-O, after all, and Mutants knew how to survive. That they would cut and run was ridiculous in such a hostile alien environment. Therefore, some ill fate had befallen them.

Meliz cared not for that, but cared a great deal to what had caused said Mutants to vanish and what aim it ultimitely had for the rest of the mission. Also, several of the females kept aboard for relieving stress among the crew had vanished as well. Meliz had seen a pattern, alternating between soldiers and sluts vanishing, that had set his nose to twitching. Whatever was behind the sporadic disappearances favored men more than women, but why? What was it? Why did he feel that Dr. Gireg knew far more about it than he was letting on?

What galled Meliz the most was how groundless his suspicions were. Gireg had been nothing but a model subordinate, engrossed in his research as he was. Still, something seemed off, enough to arouse Meliz's suspicions.

Whatever was going on, Meliz swore it would not endanger their mission or his father.

Lisker lay atop the bed as Maria had insisted, clad only in the blankets which lay atop it. He had lain so for several minutes, wondering just what she had planned. She had been rather coy since leaving Gil's home, shooting him sidelong glances and chuckling beneath her hand. He was more than willing to play along with whatever game she was playing, it kept his mind away from more stressful matters that he simply had no way of dealing with at present.

Lisker allowed himself to drift into more fanciful realms, pushing aside whatever this Verona could be up to for the time being. Things were at a stalemate, and constantly looking for plots in the shadows could drive a man insane.

The door to their bedchambers slowly opened, and Lisker goggled at the sight of her. Maria stood in the doorway, bathed in lanternlight, with one leg cocked up and the most smoldering gaze on her face that he'd ever seen. The fabric which adorned her torso hugged her curves as though its life depended on it, cupping her breasts and leaving them even perkier and exposed to the light before plunging between her legs with a swath so narrow and daring he'd almost thought she'd managed to find a surviving Victoria's Secret store, a pair of long fingerless gloves adorned her arms. Sheer silk lovingly cradled her legs, reaching up to a garter belt of the same material.

The effect was immediate.

"Hey, is that..." he managed on realizing just what she was wearing.

"I told you I had special plans for the jacket you gave me," she said in a singsong voice.

"I didn't know they were _this_ special," he said in a hoarse whisper. He'd never thought Maria could contemplate something so... so... _daring!_

"You like it?"

"Like isn't a strong enough word... It's... words fail, Maria. I love it!"

"I was going to wait until the matter of the Clutch was settled before wearing this," she nearly purred as she sauntered to the bed. "But, I realized that tonight would be even better." Lisker heard the dull roar of rain falling against the roof as she climbed slowly up his thrumming body. "Do you know why?" It took an effort of will that would have crippled a lesser man, but he tore his attention away from how the bodice supported her breasts and tried to recall what was so special about this night in particular rather than who was now straddling his stomach.

"I met you. A year ago today, I met you."

"I knew you'd get it!" she squealed.

"Put a gold star in my book," Lisker said around a smirk.

"I've seen and done so much more than I would have ever dreamed before you," she replied, "thank you."

"You've changed a lot since then, almost as much as you changed me." Lisker no longer felt any fear over how much she meant to him.

Maria rose earlier than Lisker that morning, and wanted nothing more than to remain in the toasty warmth of their bed with his hard body pressed against her. Unfortunately, it was her morning to make breakfast and nature had come calling. Her usual morning routine was performed in a half dream state as she washed and dressed. Her pants, and Maria was certain that she was the first woman in Wollo history to have worn them, along with the loose top were far more modest than the outfit which was currently strewn across the bedroom floor.

_I'll pick it up later,_ she thought as she exited the bathroom and turned for the kitchen. She considered simply taking over all of the cooking duties. Lisker, bless him, was not afriad of setting foot in the kitchen but apparently one of the skills he'd learned as a Marine was not preparing food for consumption by sentient beings via application of heat. Still and all, Maria gave him credit for trying.

The three sharp knocks on the front door spun her about in confusion. Why would Gil be calling on them so early? Or Dendel, for that matter? Maria immediately thought of the Clutch, then dismissed the notion. Gil would have been pounding on the door had they finally arrived, if he wouldn't shoulder it right open and barge in.

"Coming," she called, keeping her voice soft so as not to wake Lisker. She padded barefoot to the door and recoiled when it was shoved inward once the latch was turned. Maria looked up at the human woman, her muscle tone and tunic readily identifying her as a warrior woman from the forest. She had no idea what the amazon wanted, but the hard look in her eyes gave her a good indicator.

Maria nearly lost her balance as she turned to run and, before she could open her mouth so shout a warning, a cloth was placed over her face. Dried herbs crunched against her lips as the scent wafted up her nose and the arm holding it to her yanked back hard to be joined by its mate across her chest.

_Me?_ she thought as the woman hoisted Maria off of her feet and carried her kicking through the doorway. _They want me?!_ Her struggles grew weaker as sleep once more overtook her, and Maria's last sight before passing out was of two other women, one on each side of the front door. _Lisker..._

Though fogged from sleep and the events of the night before, Lisker's mind booted up quickly when he noticed Maria was no longer in bed with him and the space she'd occupied the night before was cold. Lisker opened his eyes and noted from the angle of the sunlight streaming through the window that it was very late in the morning. Just shy of noon, in fact.

Lisker eased on a pair of pants on climbing out of bed, telling himself not to worry. They'd made love long into the night, and as such it was to be expected that they both rose after their accustomed hour. His head now clear from long experience of having to wake up at less than a moment's notice, he found that he heard nothing from the kitchen even though this morning was her turn to make breakfast.

"No big," he muttered aloud. Maria, after all, was probably still washing up as he intended to do. Lisker paused at the doorway, considering whether to make yet another valiant failure at breakfast or to join her in the tub. "Decisions, decisions..." he chuckled as he entered the foyer...

...And froze at the sight of the dagger driven into the planks of the floor which pinned the sheet of parchment to it.

"Oh, no..." Lisker charged to where the blade pierced the wood and yanked it free. The handle was made of tarnished bone, obviously well-used from the look of it, and the flint blade bore more than a few chips along the sharp edge. He gripped the handle until his knuckles went white, fighting to reign in his temper. Someone had figured it out, or someone had talked, that he was the Guyver and what he'd feared most had happened.

"We have her," the note began, stating the blatantly obvious, "and she is unharmed. You will not find her on your own, whatever powers you have. Destroy your weapons and leave Watershed. You have four days. If you do so, she will live well among us." Lisker ran his left hand through his tousled hair. "Destroy our trees, you kill her yourself. Remain armed after four days, you kill her through us. Do as we demand, and you ensure she will live in comfort."

"What kind of fucked-up shit is _this?!_" Lisker screamed. He'd never heard of a ransom note which said that, no matter what, you'll never get someone back. He rose, crumpling the note in one hand and grasping the knife with the other. Somehow, that Verona had learned his secret. Her demands, and assurance that Maria would live well with her tribe when met, told him that she intended to use Maria as a continuous shield against him. Lisker forced himself to remain calm, kept his steps measured as he walked to the front door and onto the porch. The scents of the day meant nothing as he scanned the trees in the far distance, his grip on the knife flexing and unflexing in a steady rhythm. A patch of mud by the bottom step caught his eye. A footprint.

"Human," he muttered, "slender. A woman." He then noticed the spacing of the toes, how it indicated that she had never known the benefits of footwear. "Okay, ladies," he said in the direction of their forest. "Hardball it is, then."

Maria finds herself captive of the Warrior Maiden tribe, and under guard by a doubtful Natalie. Lisker searches the forest from the skies, and finds no trace of Maria. Grune awakens, weakened yet on the mend. What purpose does Ratar-O have for him? Stay tuned for the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	8. Addiction

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode Eight

Natalie entered the cavern in the rocky hills, well outside the Wood she called home, leaving Solange to stand guard at the entrance. A canteen of deer hide hung by her hip, just over the dagger she knew she wouldn't need. Sunlight reached in through craggy holes and slits in the ceiling, the shafts bringing a dim illumination to the narrow gouge in the earth along with fresh air. She heard the rustling cloth and muffled grunts near the back of the cave and her face fell. Natalie did not envy that poor Wollo in the slightest, and found herself ashamed at being part of such a thing as this.

Maria lay on her side, struggling with all her strength against the cords about her torso. More were wound about her legs and ankles, her arms held behind her. Natalie nearly flinched away from the terror and anger in her eyes as they stared into her own before moving down to the canteen.

"I thought as much," she said gently before helping Maria into a sitting position. "Sleepweed does tend to leave one cotton mouth." Natalie took a seat on a smooth outcropping just in front of Maria. "Lisker won't hear you, but you need to promise you won't call out once I take that off." Natalie couldn't bring herself to come across as intimidating. Maria didn't deserve to be in this situation. She seemed to consider for a moment before nodding her head in agreement.

Natalie reached behind Maria's head and undid the knot holding the cloth in place. Maria spat the gag out at once and took a deep breath.

"I won't shout," Maria said before Natalie could re-apply it, "My nose is a little stuffed."

"Oh, I didn't know that. I'm sorry. Here." She held the canteen to Maria's mouth and let the Wollo drink her fill before taking it away. "Better?"

"Much. Why am I here?"

"You're here," Natalie began, "on Verona's order."

"What does your queen want with me?"

"I think you know." Maria's face fell at those words.

"He's no threat to you," the Wollo said earnestly.

"Truth be told, I believe you. Unfortunately, Verona thinks otherwise and she does not take well to her orders being disobeyed." Natalie shook her head at the whole mad business.

"You were the one in the net that night," Maria said, her eyes widening in realization.

"You're rather perceptive," Natalie replied, grinning.

"Then why are you holding me here?!"

"I told you, M'lady Verona orders it. I don't have to like it, I just have to do it."

"Why do something you don't agree with?" Natalie looked up sharply at her before glancing away again. "If you truly mmmmmphbl!"

"I'll come back later with more water, and some food," she said as she straightened her back and did her best to ignore Maria's muffled protests. "Don't fight so hard, you'll only make it tighter." As she walked back to the cavern's entrance, the words Maria had said before the cloth had been knotted back in place rang in her ears.

Once the woman had left her sight, Maria ceased her struggling and looked about as best she was able and fought down the fear. She had been far more terrified when a captive of the Mutant Army and would not let herself go into hysterics now.

_I didn't see her with the others who took me,_ Maria thought as she flexed her fingers to try to get more blood flowing through them. She looked behind her and grunted at the solid wall of rock at her back. There was no way out but through who knew how many warrior women at the entrance to the cave. She also had no idea where she had been taken, and as such couldn't know which direction Watershed lay.

(Remember,) Lisker had told her one night as they played chess. It was the first time she had played the game with anyone aside from William. (Observe the situation, determine what's with you and against you. Look for solutions to problems everywhere, and try to find the best one. No situation is inescapable. You just have to be patient.)

She tried to smile beneath the gag, for after that speech he had turned the tables on her with a series of moves which had turned her impending victory into a defeat she hadn't seen coming. Maria had learned from that example.

Her words seemed to have had an impact on the human woman, the way she refused to look directly at her and hurriedly gagging her again proved that. Maria would, if the chance came up, try once more to pry her.

She then looked down at the cord wound around her. It was rough and appeared quite strong, certainly more than her own strength could break. Though her circulation had not been severely cut off, there was certainly no appreciable slack anywhere.

_Looks like these are the first hurdle,_ Maria thought as she gazed about the small space in search of something jagged enough for her to use to cut them from her wrists and soon found one close enough to scoot to. Grunting with the effort, Maria twisted herself about and began the process of inching herself to her best shot and freeing herself while fighting not to tip over and cut off her escape before it began.

"Ho, Lisker!" Dendel cried as he and Gil trundled up the lane. Lisker looked at them, scenarios racing through his mind. Only three people could have blabbed about the Guyver, and Verona had kidnapped the one he knew never would. Dendel just didn't have a deceptive bone in his body. That left only Watershed's mayor, Gil.

_Eliminate the impossible and whatever is left, however improbable, must be the truth._ That one line from the stories of Sherlock Holmes he had read as a boy had stuck with him all his life. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, with those words, had proven himself a genius.

_Gil knows Verona,_ he thought as the pair drew closer. _He's connected to her._ At that point, however, logic broke down. By selling him out, Gil effectively removed all chance Watershed had of repelling the Clutch. Lisker let experience take over for logic.

"Gil," he said in an even monotone once the two of them entered the yard. He closed the remaining distance, ignoring the puzzled looks they exchanged at his half-dressed state, and shoved the letter in the other human's face. He studied Gil's face closely as he read it.

"What is this?!" he shouted, either truly alarmed or acting superbly. Lisker then showed him the blade, and noted the recognition which flashed across his features. "A Warrior Maiden knife..."

"Cut the bullshit," Lisker snarled, tossing the knife behind him. He heard it land tip-first in the wall. "Gil, how do you know Verona?"

"I..."

"What did I tell you about bullshit!" he hissed, yanking Gil forward by his emerald blouse. "Of all the people who know I can transform, you're the only one connected to those amazons!"

"I had nothing to do with this!"

"What are you going on about?!" Dendel shrieked, backing away from them. Lisker released Gil, snatched the note from his hand, and pushed it toward the Bolkin. "Oh, dear," he gasped. "Lisker, you can't think Gil has anything to do with this!"

"I don't want to, but unless you explain how you know that psycho hose-beast, I've got no choice!"

"Alright!" Gil shouted, both afraid and angry. "I'll tell you, though you've got some gall demanding full disclosure while keeping..."

"You spill, I spill, how about that?"

"Fair enough," Gil replied as he straightened his collar. "I lived in their trees once. You have to understand, men are treated as useful objects, nothing more!"

"Keep going."

"I was Verona's favorite, but no matter how many times I satisfied her, she never became with child. She cast me out of the Wood, and in my ramblings I found Watershed." Lisker stared into his eyes the entire time, and knew that the man was speaking the truth. So far. "I met Shanna here, and with her I finally conceived a child."

"Okay," Lisker said. "I believe you. I just needed some missing pieces filled in."

"You have one hell of a strange way of getting information," Gil snarled.

"Look, your former lover has just had Maria kidnapped. I had to know for sure you weren't involved." Lisker began to pace, his bare feet squelching in the mud.

"Have you interacted with any other Warrior Maiden tribe?" Gil asked.

"I... Yeah." He recalled the details of his encounter with Sho.

"They saw you in your altered state?"

"Yeah."

"The different Warrior Maiden tribes communicate through messenger birds," Gil said. "If the ones you met saw your powers, they might have sent warnings to the others. That may be how Verona knew."

"I hadn't thought about that. Gil, I apologize..."

"You can make this up by telling everything once you rescue Maria."

"Thanks. Now, where in those damn trees could they be hiding her?"

"I don't know. All the boltholes in there were known only by women."

"What if she's not in the forest?" Dendel asked.

"Makes sense," Lisker replied, remembering the note. "Still, I have to check. Gil, I know I've overstepped some boundaries..."

"Say no more. I'll consult our maps and try to find a likely place outside the forest."

"Thanks. I'll go scout the woods..."

"We don't have that kind of time!" Dendel shouted. "You can't search that forest in four days!"

"Just leave that to me." Lisker nodded to the both of them before sprinting off to a safe distance. "GUYVER!" The energy raced through his nerves as the sodden ground beneath his feet was destroyed and the armor merged with him. "Good luck," he said before soaring skyward.

"If I hadn't seen it myself," Gil said as Lisker vanished into the now storm-free sky.

"Guyver," Dendel muttered, "so that's what he said."

"Come on,"Gil said, "we have a Wollo to help rescue."

"Aren't you making quite the recovery?" Aptom asked to the still-unconscious Grune. The Thunderian lay beneath the clean white sheets, thin from malnutrition and sickness, the clear mask over his face fogging with each breath. He was grateful for Gireg having been such a gifted scientist, otherwise he would never have been able to keep Grune alive. Letting him die would have drawn attention he would much rather avoid.

He had no clue what had happened to the cat-man's right arm, only that the rest of the stump had needed to be amputated. Aptom looked over to the far end of the medical lab at the gleaming metal arm which rested atop a rack of thin steel poles, lights blinking in the open shoulder socket. Grune would need some serious recovery time before he could attach the cybernetic limb.

Then there was the matter of his constant chaperones.

Aptom took an irritated breath at the thought. The fact that he was now being constantly watched was enough to point out that someone had connected a few dots and at least suspected him of some mischief.

"He gonna live?" the jackal asked, leaning against the wall near the door. The lizard was not present, having availed himself of the restroom. Aptom had to move fast, and was not at all certain he had the strength for something like this.

"For the moment," Aptom said as he closed the distance between them. The jackal grew tense as he approached. "I'd like to know why Ratar-O felt I needed to be watched, though."

"Orders."

"I know all about following orders, man. How would you like to give them instead?"

"Yeah?" The Mutant's curiosity was piqued, despite the fear of Ratar-O all of them had in common.

"Listen," Aptom said as he stood nearly toe-to-toe with the jackal, "I found something down in the ruins. Something amazing."

"Keep goin'..."

"First, I need to know if you're truly in on this. I don't need someone blowing sunshine up my ass until the chance to rat on me comes up, if you follow me." Aptom offered his hand, or Gireg's hand, and gave the Mutant a knowing look.

"I knew you were up to somethin'," the Mutant said as he took said hand. "Why would Meliz have us watchin' you?" He tried to pull his hand free, his face contorting to a look of surprised horror when the hand remained stuck.

"Meliz," Aptom said as the enzymes flowed into the Mutant's body. "I'll have to keep that name in mind." He felt as though he were draining away as his DNA was carried into the jackal Porro's body. Aptom pulled his hand away and panted heavily as Porro's body began to melt. Fur shrank into flesh, claws becoming nails and snout shortening into a scarred human face.

"Risky move," Porro, who was now also Aptom, said.

"Had to be done. You look good, by the way."

"Damn sight better than you. Didn't our mother tell us about making ugly faces?"

"Funny. The other one..."

"I know," the new Aptom said as he shifted back into Porro's form. "Great minds and all that."

"Don't let us down, handsome," Aptom said as his other retook Porro's form.

_Oh, crap!_ Maria thought as the soft footfalls began to approach. She had been at the task of trying to scrape the cord around her wrists apart for the better part of an hour, but whatever they were made from they simply refused to give. Several spots on her arms were raw and scraped from where the sharp edges of the stone had made painful contact. She threw herself onto her side and tried to roll as close to her original position as she could. If she could make it look like she had merely been rolling around blindly, she might be able to hide whatever progress she'd made against her bonds. Maria actually managed a few feet back when the blonde woman reappeared.

"I told you not to struggle," she said, turning her saddened eyes away. Maria looked up at her, and the small wrapped parcel she held. "I suppose you must be hungry by now. Let me help you up."

_As though I have a choice,_ Maira thought with more than a hint of venom.

"I'll release your hands for you." Those words sent an icy lance of fear through her heart. "I'm sure they hurt by now and..." Halfway up, the human's words stopped and Maria would have screamed if she hadn't been gagged. "Plucky one, aren't you?" Maria was placed on her bottom again and the blonde sat in front of her on the cavern's floor. "Those cords aren't so easy to sever. You've cut yourself all over." She paused for a moment, eyeing her in a way that Maria wasn't entirely comfortable with before shaking her head. "I'd bandage them for you, but you've only gotten scratches. Even so..." She stood over her, and Maria felt the pressure on her wrists vanish. She immediately reached up and ripped away the gag. "Remember, no getting loud."

"Why untie me?"

"Only your hands, unless you want me to feed you myself."

"You're going to tie them again?"

"Yes." Maria saw how her features fell even more with that word, impossible as it seemed. "That was something of a stupid question, you know." The human opened the wrapped parcel to reveal several berries and some carrots. "Eat up." Maria took a handful of berries and began to eat, taking pains not to show how well they tasted especially since they were the first things she'd eaten in over twelve hours. "If you need to relieve yourself, we'll see to it."

"Not yet. My legs..."

"You'll just have to bear it. I'm sorry."

"How long will you keep me here?" Maria asked, trying to sound the human out.

"Four days." Maria nearly choked. "Unless your man gives in to our demands sooner."

"What are they?"

"Disarm Watershed and leave for good."

"If he does that, they won't have a chance when the Clutch comes back!"

"Who?"

"Remember the thugs who'd caught you and William? They were part of a larger force. Lisker's only doing all this so the people in Watershed will have a chance to fight back when the rest come calling!"

"It's been awhile. Is he sure of this?"

"If they don't come, then that's all well and good. At least Watershed won't have to worry about bandits and murderers calling on them again." Now done with the berries, Maria started on a carrot. "If he doesn't cave, what will you do?"

"You don't need me to answer that." The silence stretched between them after those words. Sickened, Maria placed the carrot back onto the sheet of crumpled cloth. Her appetite had just vanished. "If he does, you'll find life among us..."

"What?!"

"If we simply give you back to him, there will be no way for us to prevent him from returning to Watershed, or to keep him from destroying the Wood and all of us with it. If he loves you, truly loves you, he'll be able to let you go."

"Is Verona out of her mind?!"

"Speak carefully of our queen," the human warned her, "thoughtless words have a way of reaching her ears."

"Which is why you haven't spoken out against this... Wait!" Maria shouted before the gag could be replaced. "I take that back. Just let me finish eating first."

"Believe me, I truly wish it didn't have to be this way. By the way, my name is Natalie. Best to get the introductions out of the way before you come to the trees, Maria."

_Don't count on that,_ Maria thought. "What makes Verona think Lisker is so powerful, anyway?" If she couldn't play on Natalie's obvious distaste for keeping her captive, she would try to lead her into giving over as much information as possible. At the moment, it was the only card Maria had.

"We received a message from one of our sister tribes detailing what the Guyver lets him do and that he isn't exactly a messenger of peace."

"I can see why Verona's so nervous about him," Maria replied after forcing herself to eat some of the carrot. "But I just told you he's no danger to your home or to your people."

"It doesn't matter what I think about him."

"I guess not," Maria said, giving up on that line before it could wander into topics which would end the conversation with that damned cloth. Her wrists were still sore, and she was in no hurry to have them retied. The thought alone of spending four days like this was too much to even consider.

"Let me ask you something," Natalie said, "Is Lisker truly so powerful? Verona does not doubt her source, but..."

_Uh-oh..._ "I'll say this. There's only one thing to keep in mind if you're going to fight a Guyver. Don't." Natalie's eyes widened in fear, and Maria took some small satisfaction from it. "It won't end well for you."

"Don't go thinking Lisker will find you. Even if he searches the entire Wood, he'll never lay eyes on you again." Natalie's voice didn't entirely hide the tremor with its bravado.

_Because I'm not _in _the Wood,_ Maria thought with an inward smirk. _Thank you for clearing that up._

"Here," Natalie said suddenly, "give me your hands."

"If I must," Maria replied, holding them out. To her surprise, Natalie reached into the pouch on her right hip and produced several strange almond-colored leaves which she proceeded to crush. They left a curious resin on her hands which she then began to gently apply to Maria's cuts. "AH!"

"I forgot to warn you, this will sting a little, but it will help you heal."

"A disinfectant."

"A what?"

"That's what Lisker calls ointments for cuts and scrapes."

"Strange name," Natalie said as she finished treating Maria's arms. She rose from her seat and stepped behind her. Maria knew that resistance would be useless as the rough cord was wound tightly about her wrists once again. Once secure, Maria felt herself hoisted upon Natalie's shoulder. "Solange!" she called and another woman, this one taller and obviously higher up whatever societal pecking order than the blonde, appeared within seconds. "Help me with this." Maria followed Solange with her eyes as she produced even more cord - and just how much of it did they have anyway! - and looped it around several outcroppings in a stone on the ceiling.

"We can't have you pulling another stunt like that," Natalie explained as Solange looped the trailing ends under Maria's arms and around her torso. Natalie released her gently, and her feet now dangled well above the floor.

"Verona frightens you that much?" The cloth was reapplied without an answer and the two women left her alone once more.

_It doesn't hurt, at least,_ Maria thought as she dangled in mid-air, though she was sure it would before long. Perhaps it was only temporary, their intent to leave her until it became nearly unbearable so she would not try to cut the strange rope on the walls again when they let her down. She hoped so.

_I know more than I did before,_ she mused, fighting an increasingly desperate battle to keep the fear at bay. _I know more even if it's none too reassuring._ Maria knew she was not in their forest, possibly nowhere near it. She knew that Natalie completely disagreed with the entire affair, yet would probably not go against her queen's command. Lastly she knew that the other, Solange, didn't trust Natalie in the least. The cave, from the length of time it had taken Natalie's footfalls to reach her, was too long for the other woman to have appeared so quickly. She had been listening from the shadows, and from the look in her eye she would not hesitate to move against Natalie if she decided to disobey orders.

_I know him,_ she thought, _he'll search all over the forest with his sensor medals, and he won't find me there._ Once that lead was used up, he would have no idea which direction to go. Neither of them knew the full range of those weird medals on the side of Guyver's helmet. Left with no options for the moment, Maria lowered her head and shut her eyes against the mounting frustration of being completely helpless.

Once more in the brilliant light of day, Natalie stared out over the rolling hills, each dotted with protruding rocks and sparse grasses. Maria's words would not leave her, especially what she'd said before being gagged once more.

It didn't help that it might be true.

Natalie leaned against the rim of the cavern's entrance and stared down the length of her legs, asking herself why she was going along with Verona's plan in the first place. The obvious answer was fealty to her queen. Honor and upholding duty.

Fear.

It was true, Natalie did fear Verona on some level. Everyone did one way or the other. While she was still a strong warrior and a capable leader, Verona's supply of leniency was more than a little short.

_But is that really why I haven't just untied her and put an end to this idiocy?_ Natalie asked herself. She had been tempted to the entire time they'd talked, yet she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Out of loyalty.

_Out of fear,_ her mind replied.

Natalie felt for the Wollo, and leaving her hanging like that had actually hurt. What kind of Warrior Maiden kept a hostage in the first place? Natalie could not even begin to pretend it was anything but dishonorable. Before Lisker, Verona would never have condoned kidnapping someone like this. For Natalie, it seemed as though her queen had been behaving more and more strangely since he arrived.

_Aside from rescuing me, he hasn't so much as said "Boo!" to us,_ she thought. Though Verona's explanation of Watershed's gearing up of its fighting forces was plausible enough on the surface, Natalie had found herself spending nights awake in her hut trying to find any indicator that it was also correct. While the new weapons, particularly the muskets, were frightening in and of themselves she could not determine how they would spell an overwhelming victory against the Warrior Maidens. If Lisker had truly wanted to conquer them, he could have done it himself and then subdued the outsider town. Maybe even in the same day. If conquest was his aim, why take the scenic route to get to it? Why try to fool the outsiders of that trading town into thinking he was laboring for their benifit?

_Because he's not, and you know it,_ that nagging mental voice spoke up. The only logical outcome was the one thing she was loathe to think. Verona, her queen, had gone insane.

"What troubles you?" Natalie looked up with a start at Solange's question.

"I didn't sleep well last night. I'm just tired."

"Hm. Don't go drifting off, now."

"I'll try," Natalie said with a smile she hoped appeared genuine enough.

_Maria, where are you?_ Lisker thought as he sailed above the forest canopy. As he'd expected, he hadn't found Maria's biosigns anywhere in the trees below. Numerous humans, and he knew they had been watching him, yet not one Wollo. More than once, birdcalls had sounded from the leaves below him which he knew to have been made by Warrior Maidens rather than fowl. The jungle telegraph was alive and well even with the demise of 3G wireless and AT&T. Though he didn't know their exact meanings, the basic jist was clear. They were reporting sightings of him.

"Round one goes to you, Verona," he muttered as he raced over the forest in the direction of home, "but I'm just getting warmed up." The home he and Maria had claimed for their own raced nearer and nearer, and via his sensor medals he knew Gil and Dendel to be inside.

Lisker had spent the past two hours cursing at himself while searching in vain for Maria. This had come as a complete blindside, Maria's abduction along with the fact that Verona knew about the Guyver. She had obviously had people watching the house, learning their patterns, waiting for the right time to strike. He didn't allow himself to acknowledge the fear which had taken root in his heart of hearts of what they might be doing to Maria at this very moment. All he had in the way of assurances of her safety was the note, and Lisker was not inclined to believe the word of a kidnapper. The only parts of that strange ransom note he knew to be true were that they had her and they would kill her without hesitation.

If he got careless.

_Well, fuck, I've been pretty careless so far,_ he thought bitterly as he set down on the front lawn and trod up the steps to the door. For an instant, he recalled the very first time he and Maria had approached that door, he bio-boosted and her wearing nothing but the jacket he had given her. That thought led to the night before, when he'd seen what she'd done with it over the months. Lisker forced those thoughts out of his head, replacing them with logic and cool detachment. Much as it enraged him, hurt him, even terrified him, to think that she was being held captive by a bunch of she-Tarzans, becoming emotional wouldn't bring her back.

"No luck," Gil said as he entered, looking up from a small stack of maps which he and Dendel had spread out on the surface of the table. It was not a question.

"None. I didn't expect to find her there, but I had to try." Again, the option of taking advantage of Verona's apparently incomplete dossier on him and his abilities popped up in his mind and again he shoved it down. If she only wanted him to think she was in their forest, she obviously had no clue as to how the sensor medals worked. The thought of storming in and fucking them up twice was an attractive one, and one Lisker was determined to stay away from. It wasn't what Maria would want him to do. "How about you?"

"There's one option," Gil said, "but I'm having trouble pinning it down."

"Lay it on me," Lisker replied, allowing a small burst of hope.

"I recall that they have a place they call the Maze. It's supposed to be a series of caverns and gullys that the Warrior Maidens here could use as a fallback in case a catastophe should hit the Wood."

"Secondary H.Q."

"Something like that. I know that Verona would send a party of warriors out once every month or so to inspect it, to see if any of the caverns had fallen in or if anyone was squatting there. She..."

"Never told you where it is," Lisker finished.

"Men aren't told about anything of strategic importance," Gil explained. "Cook, raise the boys, and perform on demand. For males in the Wood, that's life in a nutshell."

_The battle of the sexes has turned on its head,_ Lisker thought. He could name more than a few former acquaintances from Second Earth who would have had a field day with that.

"We've been looking over these maps," Dendel said, picking up the explanation, "trying to find where it might be. Some of these are nearly seventy years old, however, and have been recopied. They might not be identical to the originals."

"No word from Verona?"

"I've left orders to have any message from her brought directly here. So far, nothing."

"Because so far, she has the advantage," Lisker said. "Verona thinks she has me by the short hairs." In fact, she did, but Lisker was not willing to voice it.

"There's nothing on these maps that leaps out at me," Gil said. "I was certain that the Maze was somewhere hidden, or at least out of the way, but it has to be close to the Wood."

"You said caverns, right? So it's someplace hilly, more rock than soil. Are there any mountains near here?"

"There's the Korath Mountains," Dendel said with a shudder, "but they're weeks away. Besides, nothing that enters there leaves again." Lisker had long since determined where Watershed might lie on an old map, in the southernmost reaches of Canada near the border with America, perhaps in the Dakotas. Near...

"Look, this is gonna sound weird," Lisker began, "but have either of you heard of a mountain with four faces on it?" From their bewildered expressions, Lisker could tell they hadn't. Then, to his surprise, Dendel's face lit up.

"I have!" he cried. "One of my cousins is a scholar, lives in a village of them far to the southeast. One year he came to visit me, we spent the nights going over ancient myths of Second Earth."

"Go on," Gil urged.

"Duncan said he had a human friend who helped with his research, and said that stories of such a mountain were true. He didn't say exactly where though. Lisker, why bring that up?"

"Is it still around?"

"Well, no one's seen it, and Duncan said it had been destroyed long ago..."

"Thanks, you two," Lisker said warmly, grasping the human and the Bolkin by a shoulder. "That clears things right up."

"When you get back," Gil said with a hopeful expression, "I hope you'll add this strange mountain to your story."

"Count on it." With that, Lisker turned and bolted out the door without even bothering to close it before taking to the air.

_Mount Rushmore,_ Lisker thought, _the fucking Anthill._ More than a national monument honoring four of America's presidents, it had also been covertly made into one of the sturdiest fallout shelters on earth during the height of the Cold War. The mountain itself may have been reduced to rubble, but the tunnels and reinforced walls beneath the surface might have survived and formed what could be mistaken as natural caverns and chambers over the course of two millennia. It was also the only lead he had.

_Please be there,_ he pleaded as the sun began its descent. _Please..._

Like most decisions which dramatically alter the course of one's life, Natalie would never be able to pin down the exact point when she made it, or what preciesly the final straw was that led her to it. She tried to ease her jangling nerves, to hide the raging anxiety from Solange. She had known exactly why Verona's most loyal blade had been ordered to stand guard over Maria with her when the other woman had appeared so quickly earlier. Solange had been sent to keep an eye on her. Natalie knew she no longer had Verona's trust, and her own in her queen had been eroding more and more quickly as the sun neared the horizon.

Using the pretext of relieving herself, Natalie had instead added a small amount of sleepweed to the remaining water in the canteen after crushing it to powder. Taken by mouth, it was only slightly less effective than if its aroma were breathed in but the result would be the same.

"Hand me the canteen, would you?" Solange's question startled her. Natalie shrugged it off of her shoulder and handed it over with a surge of relief. She had been pondering how to get the other woman to drink from it without arousing suspicion, and here Solange did it for her.

"Not much left in it," Natalie said, her voice surprisingly nonchalant. "I didn't go to the stream earlier." Though true, the water was low because she had poured some out to make the sleepweed concentration more potent. She deliberately kept her eyes off of Solange as she put the tip of the canteen to her lips. From the corner of her eye she saw Solange's throat work as she swallowed the tainted water.

"I'm sorry," she said as Solange stared at her with disbelief writ large across her face. The canteen fell from her hand as she collapsed into a boneless heap. Natalie charged into the cavern, her bare feet stinging from slapping against the stone floor, and almost had to slide to a halt to keep from plowing into the suspended Maria.

"What's happening?" the Wollo asked once she ripped the gag away once more.

"I'm setting you loose," Natalie said in hushed, hurried words. "The sleepweed will keep Solange out for a while, and we have to be far enough away so she can't track us on her own."

"Thank you," Maria said warmly as she began to work on the knots holding Maria aloft. "This was getting painful."

"I'm so sorry this happened to you," Natalie replied. "I don't know what's come over Verona..."

"I'm wondering what's come over you." Natalie froze at Solange's words. Slowly, she turned to face the wide-awake Warrior Maiden. "You didn't think I'd fall for something that simple, did you?"

"You didn't drink of the water," Natalie said, crushed. Her best chance for making this madness up to Maria, and her own concience, had just crapped out.

"Another brilliant deduction," Solange snapped, her eyes blazing and her lips pulled back from her teeth. "I knew your were thinking about betrayal, and I just handed you the opportunity."

"If anyone's betrayed anything, it's Verona!" Natalie shouted. "Surely you've seen it, as close as you are to her! She's going mad!"

"She's strong," Solange replied as she drew her blade, short yet wickedly curved. "You're the one who's fouled in the head, thinking she's losing her sanity."

"I won't draw my blade against one of my sisters..."

"You lost your sisters when you tried to sabotage Verona's plan," Solange interjected. "You've cast away everything for the sake of a man and someone who's not even human!"

"Orders or no," Natalie said as Solange began to circle. Natalie matched step for step, trying to keep Maria from getting between them. "Kidnapping someone is wrong, it's dishonorable. Lisker has done nothing untoward, and Maria doesn't deserve to be strung up in a cave like a side of meat!"

"Desperate times, dear, desperate measures. Verona wanted me to keep you along with this Wollo, but standing guard over two for three more days is too great a risk. Since she'll have you put to death anyway, she'll understand if I save her the trouble!" Natalie was a hair too slow in sidestepping Solange's lunging swipe. A thin trail of blood ran across her flat abdomen, the wound stinging painfully.

"STOP IT!" Maria bellowed, horrified at the sight.

"You keep quiet," Solange said to the Wollo without removing her eyes from Natalie. "I may just decide that guarding one is too much hassle. Arranging for two deaths is as easy as one."

"How will you explain away killing me?!" Maria shouted. "It's not like I can run from you right now!"

"Natalie removed enough of your bonds for you to do the rest, and before making a break for it, you tried to stab me. Unfortunate accident."

"You honestly think Verona will believe that?" Natalie asked, a horrible truth dawning on her.

"She believes everything I tell her, she has for months. You have no clue how many of her decisions I actually made for her. She may be strong, but she's getting on in years. Time for some fresh blood to take the throne and, since she has no heirs, I'm next in line."

"It's you..." Natalie said just before another cut, this one just below her throat, marred her flesh.

"Too slow, girl," Solange said with an evil leer. "And, it's too late. By now, her mind's so dependent on the garra lilly that she'll die without it. I really have to thank Lisker for providing the chance I was looking for to up the dosage."

"You BITCH!" Natalie roared, despair fleeing from an onrushing tide of rage. An extract from that flower could enhance clarity of thought for a time, yet the more it was used the more confused the thought process became and the more the body needed it to function. Verona's own lieutenant had been poisoning her with it for so long that she could no longer function without it, or Solange to tell her what was going on in the world. The dagger appeared in her hand, yet she knew it would be to no avail. Solange was the best warrior in the Wood.

"Good girl," Solange cooed. "Make my version of events more plausible..."

The beam of emerald light burned through Solange's blade and bored a small hole in the rock wall at the rear. As one, all three looked in the direction it had come from.

"Well, well," Lisker said as he came fully into view, the tip of the curved fin atop his head nearly scraping the cavern's ceiling. "Things are starting to add up now."

Lisker's relief on finding Maria alive and unharmed nearly drowned out the rage at seeing her hung from the cave's roof. He had followed the conversation from nearly a mile off as he'd raced toward the cave where he'd detected three biosigns, and he found himself feeling for Natalie, much less surprised that she had been one of those holding Maria.

The one named Solange had blanched at his appearance, the killing lust vanishing from her eyes just before she bolted for the entrance. Lisker, in a fit of pique, decided to help her along by stepping behind her running form and landing a swat to her back. Solange went flying forward, and he heard her roll to a stop in the distance before Natalie roared in rage and chased after the other woman with a dagger in hand. Lisker ignored them as he focused on Maria and confirmed she was uninjured as he scanned her.

"Natalie..."

"I know," he said as he snapped the rope holding her aloft, "I heard everything."

"Now why does that not surprise me?" she asked as he set her down on the floor. Lisker tore the cords away from her before wrapping Maria in an embrace.

"Thank God you're okay."

"Just a little stiff."

"Come on, Maria, you can't fool me. I know you're hurting right now."

"It's not bad. Ooohh..." Maria grunted, her face twisted in pain, as she tried to stand.

"Your circulation's still a little slow. Just take it easy."

"Go after Natalie," Maria said as she used his shoulders to stand. "Solange is better with a blade than she is."

"And leave you to whatever prowls around here at night? Thanks, but I've let you down once today, and that's one time too many." He scooped her up in his arms before turning and making a power dash to the cave's entrance.

Natalie cast her gaze about as the sun dipped below the horizon, searching for that traitorous bitch and finding herself unrewarded. She had been to The Maze only twice, while Solange had scouted it numerous times. The other woman knew its nooks and crannies far better than she did, and could use them either for ambush or escape. Neither were acceptable, so far as she was concerned.

_Lisker's here,_ Natalie thought as she raced across the sparse grasses. That said it all. She would make the quickest escape back to the Wood that she could, and from there...

Natalie slowed to a halt. She knew exactly what was happening. Part of her wanted to keep rushing in, yet another knew it to be throwing her life away. Solange hadn't become Verona's chief hound only by use of the garra lily's extract. She was as shrewd and cunning as anyone Natalie had seen, moreso even.

"No sign of her," she heard Lisker's strange voice say as he dashed toward her with Maria cradled in his arms. "Hold on." The twin medallions aside his head moved about in their fleshy tracks for several moments. "Damn. I thought so."

"What is it?"

"A long time ago, this place was an underground fortress. A lot of it's exposed now, but most of it isn't stone. It's made of something called concrete, and all of it was lined with lead."

"Meaning?"

"Lead's a soft metal, but it's extremely dense. It can contain all kinds of energy. Long story short, this entire place is a blind spot except for a few places on the surface. I can't find a trace of Solange anywhere."

"Meaning she's either waiting for us, or halfway back to the Wood."

"I'd go for the second," Lisker said. "The more on her side, the better."

Natalie nodded once before looking back in the direction of the Wood, a place she knew she could never again set foot in, and fell to her knees in despair and rage at how much of a fool she'd been. Tears began to roll down her face at the bitter irony. She had discovered Solange's treachery, but Natalie herself would be branded a traitor. She could never re-enter the Wood, or any other forest where Warrior Maidens gathered. Messages of her betrayal would be sent out to all tribes within range of messenger birds, and she would be killed on sight should she try to enter their trees.

Verona, her queen, was in essence dead. Replaced by whatever drugged puppet that deceitful whore had turned her into. Natalie had lost her home, her sisters, her queen, and knew that nothing she could do would ever bring back the woman who had taken an awkward and frightened slip of a girl under her wing and molded her into a true child of the Wood. Natalie could never make it all right, but she would see that Solange would pay for what she had done. Uneven footfalls drew her attention as Maria limped toward her and another pang of shame hit.

"I'm..." Natalie was cut off as Maria's hands appeared on her shoulders.

"You did what was right in the end. That counts for a lot." Then, much to her astonishment, Maria leaned in an placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Come with us," Lisker said, delivering another surprise in what was already the strangest night of her life. "I'm thinking you're a little short on options right now."

"After all this?" Natalie blurted out as he came into view. "After I helped hold Maria hostage? I helped string her up from a cave's roof, even!"

"I overheard everything between you and Solange," Lisker explained. "You're not a bad person. Just young, scared, and confused. Natalie, you're not the first to score that combo. Besides, Maria's already forgiven you."

"I..."

"Look," Lisker went on, by now squatting on his armored haunches in front of her and Maria, "you learned a tough lesson tonight. Saying 'I was just following orders' only carries you so far. It doesn't justify everything. You've gone a long way toward earning my respect with that." He sighed, or at least Natalie thought he did. She had no clue how he was able to speak with his mouth apparently covered in that weird armor plate. "I can't promise you'll ever be able to go back to the forest. I can't even promise you'll be able to bring down Solange. But, I can promise that we'll try."

"Then, that will have to be enough."

Lisker was silently grateful for the sight of Benjamin, who stood alongside Gil and Dendel on the porch, and for the horse-drawn cart he had apparently brought with him as he set down in front of them. Benjamin's eyes were like saucers, his jaw open in shock at the sight of his armored form.

"What do ya call that?" he asked as they approached.

"Gil, Dendel, Benjamin, this is Natalie," he said. "She'll be staying with Maria and I."

"It appears your not our sole expert on all things Warrior Maiden any more," Dendel said to Gil with a grin.

"I lived in the Wood for a while," he explained to Natalie. "I knew Verona."

"Verona is dead. At least," she added when she saw the stunned expressions, "she may as well be."

"Explanations later, Gil," Lisker said. "Maria, anything you want to bring with you, get it now. We've gotta move it."

"Solange is still alive," Natalie said, "and she still has my sisters on her side and Verona in her power. As long as we're alive, we're a threat to her."

"I see," Maria replied. "We'll be much safer in Watershed than out here." With that, Maria dashed in to begin gathering her things.

"It seems I'm not the only one who lost a home tonight," Natalie said to Lisker.

"Solange won't hesitate to send some people out here, if they're not already on the way. Maria got kidnapped right under my nose out here. That's proof positive I can't keep the two of you safe all the time. Not in this place." He had been coming to love this house.

"I'll help," Gil said suddenly. "Ben, Dendel, let's hit the cellar and load up. Lisker," he said, looking at the bio-boosted human, "you're welcome in my home."

"Thanks, but we'll find a place in town."'

"At least for tonight."

"Alright." Lisker said nothing more as he entered the house and made for the bedroom where he heard Maria bustling about. He saw the outfit she'd made of her jacket bundled in her hands, stuffed with a few pairs of pants and a blouse.

"We had some great times here," she said, a wistful note added to her hurried tone.

"We sure did." With that, he stepped to the closet and retrieved the box he hadn't distrubed since they first arrived.

"Is that...?"

"Yeah. It's yours, so far as I'm concerned." Lisker opened the lid and gazed at the ornate pendant. He took it out of the box and knelt down to drape it around her neck.

"I love you," she said and went back to gathering clothes after he replied in kind. Several minutes later, loaded down with food, rolls of cloth, sundry supplies, and five passengers, Benjamin's wagon started on the road to Watershed with Lisker hovering several feet above them.

Frustrated, Solange walked the suspended pathways of the Wood gingerly. Her back still throbbed from Lisker's blow and from constant running. Natalie now knew the truth, as did Lisker and that Wollo bitch. Her plan was now compromised nearly to the point of being fucked up beyond all recognition.

Still, it was salvageable.

A brief stop at her hut, which her status ensured she enjoyed alone, to retrieve Verona's "medicine" and the instrument to apply it had been the first order of business once she had been informed that her queen had sealed her own hut and would admit no one but her.

Queen. Solange wanted to laugh at that. Verona was no queen. She was a puppet, the extract served as the strings, and Solange held them and made her dance. She recalled well the night she had made her bargain with the man who called himself Rinaldo, when he had promised her a golden opportunity at seizing Verona's place. He had provided the extract of the garra lily, the cylindrical instrument he'd called a hypo, and instructions on exactly how to use them. In return, she was to keep Verona away from a certain spot in the forest. On accepting the deal, she had shaken his hand and saw the clutching talon inked into its skin.

Small amounts of the liquid in her water, just enough to set the hook, and Verona began listening only to her once the downside of garra extract started settling in. For months she had slowly made Verona a shadow of who she had once been until Lisker came and news of his power as a Guyver followed. It had been a risk, but a much larger dose had placed Verona completely under her sway. She hadn't even needed subtrefuge. Solange had held back the extract for an entire two days and, when she went to Verona's hut, the once-proud warrior had been on the floor of her hut trembling. She had even begged for relief once Solange had produced the hypo and told her it was medicine.

It had been simplicity in itself.

Solange had sent messenger birds to Rinaldo, telling him of Watershed's raising of arms without bothering to mention Lisker or the Guyver. Once Rinaldo attacked, and his forces immolated by Lisker, she would never have to worry about the Clutch ever again and the Wood would be hers to rule.

Until tonight. But, unlike Natalie, Solange had options.

She entered Verona's hut to find the older woman sitting in her wicker throne, pale and drawn. Withdrawal was just beginning. Perfect.

"You have it?"

"Of course, M'lady," Solange replied, the model of respect as she readied the cord. She wrapped it about Verona's arm just above the elbow and tapped the forearm until a usable vein appeared. Verona sighed in releif even as the tip entered her skin, before the extract even hit her.

"I thank you, Solange," Verona said, her voice clearing for a moment before becoming dreamy.

"I serve M'lady." This she said with a hint of contempt. Verona was already far too stoned to notice. "Now, I have some unfortunate news for you."

Construction of New Thundera Colony finishes with a celebration, and Natalie tries to adjust to a life in the town of Watershed. Grune awakens to find his missing arm replaced with a machine, and a new offer of allegiance from Ratar-O. Meliz's suspicions concerning Gireg/Aptom grow to include the Mutants he assigned to keep an eye on him, while Aptom's true agenda remains a mystery. Stay tuned for the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	9. Coronation

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode Nine

"We really have to get going," Bengali said as Pumyra held Darin. Snarf stood before the pair, looking upward expectantly.

"Just a minute," she replied before facing Snarf again. "Now..."

"Pumyra," Bengali began, managing to resist tugging at the collar of the white shirt he wore. It fit him well, yet Bengali was not familiar with formal wear, the black slacks and coat felt wrong to him. "Hey. Think who you're talking to."

"Snarrf, exactly!" Snarf said with an indignant note. "If I could diaper Lion-O's bottom, I can handle Darin. No sweat."

"I know," she said as she knelt down to hand their son to their king's former nursemaid. She wore a dress of eye-catching red with slits that ended at her hips and whose flaps neared her calves. It had no sleeves, and emphasized her bust with a hollow at the top of her clevage which ended in a ring about her neck. A pair of pumps the same shade adorned her feet with heels nearly three inches high and kept on them with straps of leather.

She had never looked more stunning, in Bengali's expert opinion. The style, like his own, was all Third Earth, but the effect was something which Thundera could have done with.

"I know all about how a new mother feels," Snarf said with a healthy dose of sympathy. "Lady Leona had trouble letting Lion-O out of her sight when he was a cub. But, don't you fret!" Snarf exclaimed. "You're a doctor, but I'm a nursemaid. If they wear diapers and cry, Ol' Snarf can handle 'em."

Lion-O had decided to wear his traditional black outfit for the festivities. The fact that he owned no apparrel originating from Third Earth had helped the decision immensely. He had never been one for fancy dress, and the others would wear styles seen on Third Earth for the benifit of the locals who would be attending, and had helped build New Thundera Colony.

Despite his usual nature, Lion-O felt as though a metric truckload of butterflies had decided that his stomach would make for prime real estate and had taken up residence. He could not recall ever feeling so nervous about anything. Even the moments leading up to his first night with Cheetara hadn't given him a case of nerves such as this. He stood before the towering reactor, a massive conglomeration of crystal, tritanium, lead, and right angles that left him baffled at how it could pump so much power from thundrillium ore.

_Here I'm supposed to be king,_ he thought, _and I couldn't explain how this thing works on a bet._ Lion-O was far from used to feeling inadequate, and as such the crushing weight of it felt overbearing.

"You seem as though you could use some advice," Jaga said as he appeared next to Lion-O on the catwalk which wound about the underground chamber.

"Oh, just a lot."

"Your father," Jaga began, "was just as nervous at his coronation as you are now."

"Really?" The image he'd always held of the father he barely knew, strong and wise and completely unafraid, clashed against Jaga's statement.

"What I said to you about Grune so long ago also is true of Claudis. He was a man just as you are. As Third Earthers would say, he put his pants on one leg at a time just as anyone else."

"After he put them on, he made decisions that affected billions."

"No one ever said the reponsibilites of the throne were easy. You feel unprepared, inadequate even."

"You mean..."

"That Claudis did, as well. Lion-O, no one is ever prepared for the rigors of being king."

"I think about my father," Lion-O said, gripping the catwalk's railing, "and I picture a man who had all the answers, who always knew what to do. I see that, and I keep thinking I'll never measure up."

"Just as many sons have before you," Jaga replied with a light laugh. "That, Lion-O, is one of the burdens of being the son of a great man. The thought of having to fill shoes that will always seem too large. It did not help that Claudis could not spend as much time with you as he wished."

"I remember a little of mother, and of private teachers, but all I really had back then was Snarf."

"I am sorry we could not be there for you," Jaga's spirit said, "but there was no choice. It was not long after Grune's final betrayal when we found that Thundera's days had become numbered."

"What happened, exactly?" Lion-O asked as he turned to face his mentor. "All I really remember was that everyone looked scared and then we had to leave."

"You were not told," Jaga began, "because you were too young to understand, and no one wished to put you through such trauma. But, if you wish to know, I will tell you."

"Please." It was something Lion-O had always wanted to know, yet had never before been given the chance to ask.

"Our seismologists had been tracking more frequent, and increasingly violent, periods of tectonic activity along the faultlines of Thundera, and noted that they were spreading to areas which had been stable for millinnea. To make a long story short, they discovered that the heat energy of the planet's core was falling dramatically."

"How could that destroy a planet?"

"Think of a planet's core as its heart. When it fails, the planet dies. When Thundera's core became cold and solid, it could no longer keep the planet together. Thundera was then crushed inward by its own gravity and, when the fragments of the crust collided within the dead core, the force of the impact shattered them outward. As such, Thundera imploded and was no more."

Lion-O kept silent through Jaga's explanation, unable to shake a very unusual feeling regarding the other. Jaga, he felt, was not telling all he knew. Lion-O finally pushed it away. It was ludicrous.

"Organizing a planet-wide evacuation was a logistical nightmare, and required every resource the Nobility had to call upon. Even worse, we discovered too late that our seismologists' predictions had been wrong."

"What?"

"Thundera began to fully collapse on itself two months before predicted. It was a miracle that as many ships managed to escape as they did."

"Oh." It was all he could say after hearing something so horrible as this.

"You cannot know everything, Lion-O, no mortal can."

"Not even my father could."

"Precisely. However, you do not have to. The ThunderCats are not your teachers any longer. They are now your advisors. Their eyes are your eyes, their ears are your ears. Trust them, for not even the mightiest of Thunderian monarchs ever stood alone." With that, Jaga faded away as he always did, his cape wrapped about him and the etherial blue light closing in on itself.

"I was wondering where you'd gotten off to," Cheetara's voice said from behind some minutes later. Lion-O turned about and found yet another thing to occupy his attention. Her lithe form was clad in a black dress which left her arms and shoulders bare and hugged her torso snugly. The dress itself, shimmering black like the top, flowed gracefully down to her ankles, the left side open and exposing a length of leg as she walked.

"Whoa..."

"I take it you like what you see?" she asked as she spun about slowly. The back, he saw, took a daring V-plunge to nearly the base of her spine.

"You look... stunning! I... I'm starting to feel a little underdressed here!"

"This old thing? One thing I'll say about Tabbots," she said as she came nearer, "they're greedy little hogs, but they know fabrics and jewelry almost as well as Snarf. Trust me, that's saying something."

"Is it that silk stuff?"

"Oh, yes," she replied as she stopped within easy reach, "and I almost wish we'd had it on Thundera. The things you can do with this could blow your mind."

"I'll believe it," he said. Here was something else he knew he'd have to get squared away. Lion-O steadied himself, summoning the courage and maturity to say what had been going through his mind for months. "The ceremony doesn't start for a few more hours, and it just doesn't get any more private than in here."

"Lion-O?" Cheetara's expression became puzzled. Normally, such words would be prelude to passionate lovemaking, yet his tone indicated far more serious matters. So far, so good.

"I've been thinking lately," he said before turning to lean back against the cold metal railing, "about a lot of things, and I think it's time I grew the rest of the way up."

"Yes?"

"I'm not just Lord of the ThunderCats anymore. I'm King of Thundera as well. I know my father held both titles for years, and he wasn't the first."

"He only held on to both because he wanted you to inherit them both from him. When he was blinded, he had to pass it to Jaga."

"I know. I also know that both titles come with their own sets of responsibilities. My father may have found a way to balance them, but I'm not him. As leader, I have to be out in the field. As king, my safety is paramount to the other ThunderCats. I don't need to be a genius to see how many headaches that'll cause."

"What are you getting at?" Lion-O looked into her eyes, and saw that she already knew, or had a very solid idea at least. It was one of the many aspects of her that he found so appealing.

"If I'm to be fully effective in either role, I'll have to dedicate myself to one or the other completely. That's why, tomorrow or the next day, I'll talk to Tygra about him taking a step up in the world."

"Are you absolutely certain about this?"

"I am, Cheetara, and I didn't come to this decision easily. Tygra can handle the role, I know it. He did just fine when he had to step in while I was on the mend, remember?"

Cheetara looked at him and found herself amazed at how much of a man he had become. She'd never let on, yet she had known that he'd enjoyed being able to satisfy his adventureous nature. It had been the kitten in him, curious and full of energy, which had said "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!" and sent him barrelling headlong into whatever danger he encountered. To hear the gravity in his voice, the determination which said that was done and behind him, proved that he was now fully a man. A king rather than an impetuous prince.

"You realize," she said, tracing her fingers up the hard muscles of his arm before gently clasping his shoulder, "that Tygra will have to undergo the Annointment Trials before he can assume that role?"

"I thought as much, but I'm confident he can do it."

"You also know, then, that he can decline your offer?"

"I thought about that, too," Lion-O said as his hand appeared over hers, "and I know there's a chance he will. Tygra's not afraid of duty, but power is something he's not comfortable with. If he refuses, then I have to ask..."

"Me. I know. I wouldn't be the first woman in that role, either." Even so, she dearly hoped Tygra would accept. It would be good for him to come out of his shell, cast off his natural shyness a little. Also, the final test in this case was one she did not look forward to in the slightest.

"He's gonna have a rougher time of it than I did," Lion-O said. "He'll have even more ThunderCats to test him."

"Not to mention you. Don't get that look, you know it's true. You may be a king, but you're still a ThunderCat and the Code is very clear when it comes to the Annointment Trials."

"I just don't know how I can test him..."

"Then I'll tell you." Lion-O froze at that, stunned at the surety of her words. "The Code is clear on this, too. The final test, no matter how many a ThunderCat has to endure, is always one of two. The first, which was yours, is to defeat your deadliest enemy barehanded and alone."

"Since Mumm-Ra is persona non grata right now, that's not an option for Tygra." Lion-O's face took on a surprised, and somewhat horrified, cast as realization dawned on him.

"So, for Tygra, it will be the second. He'll have to defeat his king in the same manner." Cheetara watched as several emotions raced through his eyes before he closed them with a resigned sigh through clenched teeth.

"You know I don't like it, but I see the necessity of it. Besides, in a way it makes sense." He opened his eyes again and stared into hers. "Either defeat your worst enemy, or best the one who bested all of the other ThunderCats before you. Both are fitting final exams, if you look at it in that light."

_To think,_ Cheetara mused as a smile appeared on her lips, _that almost two years ago you would never have said that. Welcome to adulthood, Lion-O. Glad to have you._ "Now, something tells me," she began as she reluctantly broke contact and backed away a step, "that there's more here."

"I'm not surprised," Lion-O said, a light dancing in his eyes. "Once that whole issue is settled, nothing will stand in the way."

"Of what?" _He's going to..._ she thought, uncharacteristically giddy inside.

"Of me finally making an honest woman out of you. That is," he added, suddenly uncertain, "if you'll..." She leaned in and kissed him, more deeply than she had since construction of their new home had begun and broke off with not a little reluctance.

"In summation," she said, slightly breathless, "that means yes." She backed away once more, the heeled shoes she wore echoing with each step. "Don't get too exited," she chided lovingly, "you're due to be coronated in just over two hours."

"Don't take this the wrong way," Lion-O looked up and down her body, "but you're making that just a little difficult right now."

"So, I'll see you at the ceremony," she replied with a wink. "We can catch up on the rest afterward." As Cheetara walked away, she couldn't control the beaming smile any longer and let it loose with the feelings in her heart.

It had taken three days since he had rescued Maria to tell the story from the beginning, with all of the questions and tangents he'd been led down on explaining how he could have been alive during Second Earth, his discovery of the Guyver, the existence of Guyver One, and all of the madness of their days among the Mutant Army to slog through. Lisker had adamantly refused to answer any questions regarding Kronos, claiming this was due to them being irrelevant to his being in Watershed. Mainly, he was certain that they would not want to know about the terrible connection between zoanoids and humans. When he had revealed details of Second Earth, the faces of Maria, Natalie, Benjamin, Gil, and Dendel had been rapt with attention. Revealing his knowledge of history and his one-time life as a soldier had explained a few things to the latter two about his weapons designs. That, in turn, had led to explanations of why he could not develop the advanced weaponry he'd had at his disposal while in the Marine Corps.

With Solange having Verona as her puppet, the sight which had greeted them the morning after the rescue had borne little surprise. They had stood on the rooftop of Dendel's home, all staring at the plume of smoke which had twisted up from the site of their former home. Maria had leaned against him, tears streaming down her face. Natalie, still clad in the fur one-piece she had worn, could not look at it for very long. The place he and Maria had called home for so long had been destroyed. A fit of anger, or pique? Lisker found he didn't care. New places to live could always be found, new spots to call home.

As such, he had found himself sharing a still-vacant shop with Maria and Natalie. All of the clothes Maria had taken had been sized for them, leaving the former Warrior Maiden with only the one-piece fur outfit she'd had on her back on coming to Watershed. Lisker, to his embarrassment, had given no thought to it until Natalie had come to breakfast stark naked.

She had been genuinely confused as to how her state of ultimate undress had caused such consternation. She had simply said that her clothes were dirty, and had been placed with those which needed cleaning. Natalie hadn't even bothered covering herself as they explained that such cavalier attitudes about showing off the goods would not go over well in Watershed, and Maria had volunteered on the spot to make more outfits for the human woman to wear. Natalie, having been accustomed to hides and furs, had felt uncomfortable in the cotton pants and shirt which had adorned her body by lunchtime, and Lisker had been amazed at just how fast Maria had been able to make the outfit.

These memories played in the theatre of his mind as he sat atop the roof of said shop, a two-floor affair like Dendel's, in a wooden chair which had been found in a storage closet. The cleanup of dust and cobwebs was nearly done, the foodstuffs they'd taken from the old farmhouse stored in the cellar, and the closets holding clothes in the upper living quarters, but it still didn't feel like home yet.

"Where are they?" Maria asked from the chair to his right. She sat between Natalie and himself, the former staring out at the spreading gold and violet in the sky. Several moments after she'd spoken, the roof hatch opened to reveal Gil as he climbed the access ladder. A tin pail was in his hand, the tips of several corked brown bottles peeking above the rim. Dendel followed behind soon after with Benjamin taking up the rear.

"I have to say," Gil said as he closed the hatch before moving to take a seat in the chair left out for him. The six of them sat in a semicircle, the large pail between them. "After what's happened and hearing your fantastic story, we could all use some of this." The mayor of Watershed plucked a bottle free and handed the chilled glass to Lisker. He uncorked it as the rest partook, and the medley of malts teased his nose unlike any beer he'd ever sniffed.

"You brew this yourself, Gil?" He saw Maria eyeing hers quizzically, Natalie sniffing the open bottle as though unsure if it was poison or not.

"Benjamin does, actually," he replied.

"Careful," the large man drawled, "it's got some kick." Lisker took a pull, the different flavors and the earthy undertone of the malt dancing across his tongue before hitting his stomach like dynamite.

"You're not kidding!" Lisker thought it was twenty to thirty percent alcohol. It was, however, the single best beer he'd ever tasted.

"Been aged a right good piece," Ben said before uncorking his own and downing half the bottle and emitting a supersonic belch, "t' mellow it some."

"Are you sure it's safe?" Natalie asked.

"My pappy always said a good brew is like a good wife. They both get better with age."

"Sounds like an interesting guy," Lisker said. Natalie took another sniff, shrugged her shoulders, and sipped.

"Hmm... Not bad!"

"Why thankya... might wanna ease up some, Miss Maria." Lisker looked to his right to find Maria busily chugging.

"This is great!" she enthused once the noticably emptier bottle left her lips. "I've wondered what men saw in beer."

_In vino veritas,_ Lisker thought. "Well, thanks for the brew, Ben, but it's time we got started."

"Sure. I'll leave the batch here, just bring the pail back when ya can."

"It seems," Lisker began, "that the Warrior Maidens could become a new enemy."

"Solange," Natalie said, picking up the line of discussion, "has used garra lily extract to place Verona under her influence. Lisker, your arrival here gave her the excuse she had been looking for to make her hold unbreakable. I believe she manipulated Verona into kidnapping Maria and assigning myself to watch her in an attempt to eliminate me. I've been known to ask questions of Verona, so perhaps Solange saw me as a potential threat."

"This garra lily crap," Lisker said once Natalie finished, "how does it work?"

"The extract affects the mind, enslaving it and the body. Those who take the extract believe they can think on some higher level, yet their heads become clouded with more uses. It's been banned in the Wood since before the days of my mother's mother."

_Sounds kinda like heroin,_ Lisker thought, _or a dozen other forms of brainsoap from Second Earth._ "When did you think it was this flower dope?"

"I had no clue, until Solange told me in the Maze. I do know that Verona's behaviour had become drastically stranger once the message of your abilities arrived. In truth, I hadn't seen much reason to question her ability to reign until then."

"She upped the dosage."

"Solange's words exactly."

"Sounds like something pushers used to do," Lisker mused, "they'd give out small hits of whatever drug they were selling, just enough to get them hooked before upping the price." Lisker had explained earlier, on first hearing of the extract, about the illicit narcotics trades on Second Earth. "Natalie, did you notice any strange wounds on Verona? Her arms, maybe?"

"Now that you mention it, I have!" The tone of dawning comprehension grew with each word. "Just after winter ended, and we stopped wearing our heavy furs, I saw several spots on her arms. She had told me that they came from the types of furs she had worn. I had written it off at the time, some people's skin can break out while wearing particular pelts."

"Anything else?"

"Yes, some unusual marks up her arms. I have no idea what they mean, aside from age. Verona is not a young woman any longer."

_Track marks..._ "Thanks, Natalie. It all makes sense now."

"Mind cluein' the rest of us in?" Benjamin asked.

"It's simple, if you know what to look for and know what it is. Natalie, those marks you saw on Verona's arms were called skinpops, the others track marks."

"What does that mean?" Maria asked before gulping more of the insanely good beer.

"From what I've gathered of garra lily extract, it seems to be similar to another extract of a Second Earth flower, poppies. As such, this crap is remarkably similar to heroin. Especially in regards to how addictive it is. Strap in, because this logic train is about to go into overdrive.

"Natalie, you said that Verona's behavior didn't get really weird until the letter about me arrived. That was, what, the start of winter?"

"The end of autumn, but the timing is almost right."

"Good enough," Lisker continued, feeling a little like his boyhood hero, Sherlock Holmes. "One last thing to clear up. Can the garra lily stuff be taken by mouth?"

"In the ancient days, I was told, it always was."

"Okay. Here's the scenario. Solange had outside help, of the type which not only knows about Second Earth narcotics, but also how best to administer them and where to find stored supplies. Solange, the way I see it, is in league with the Clutch."

"How so?" They all asked. Lisker took another pull of the outrageously good beer before responding.

"Those marks you saw on Verona's arms come from constant injections into her veins. Solange was, at first, maybe spiking her drinks with the extract before deciding she should just shoot it into Verona's bloodstream directly." Natalie nearly dropped her bottle, her face a mask of outraged horror.

"I had no idea she'd go so far!" the younger human shrieked.

"In the Wood," Gil said, "blood is considered sacred. It is, to put it simply, the essence of life, and any tampering with it is forbidden. Even in battle, the blood of slain enemies is left to water the soil and nourish the Wood."

"Oh." Lisker shook his head at that. "Getting back on track," he said forcefully, after which Natalie retook her seat, "drugs like this are far more effective when introduced directly into the blood than if snorted, smoked, or taken by mouth. That's how Solange set the hook so deeply." It was, from Lisker's standpoint, exceedingly simple and all the more insidious for it.

"If that's so, then how did Solange get Verona to submit to this?" Dendel, who had finished nursing his beer, asked. "For that matter, how did it get in her blood to begin with?"

"I was getting to that. Have any of you ever seen a hypodermic needle?" Their expressions showed negative. "Thought so. Anyway, the instrument's a hollow needle sticking out from a cylinder with a plunger at the end. These needles can be inserted into the body's blood vessels to either take blood out, or put something else in. My guess is that Solange witheld the extract for a day or two once she'd gotten Verona hooked, and let withdrawal do the rest." Silence reigned after Lisker finished speaking. He took another pull, though the beer had lost some of its appeal.

"Solange had contact with someone who has access to ancient medical tools," Gil said. "If that person was a representative of the Clutch, then who knows what other relics of Second Earth they can lay hands to?"

"How d'we know they're part of it all?" Benjamin asked.

"A deal of some kind," Maria said, though her words were slightly slurred. Her bottle was drained, and a dreamy look was in her eyes. "Makes sense. How else could they have hidden in the trees without the Warrior Maidens giving them the boot?"

"Verona did say that a portion of the Wood was to be off-limits," Natalie said, her face a study in impotent anger. "I wondered why she'd do something so strange, so I checked on it. That's when the Trollog caught me, and you came to my aid." She looked at Lisker as she said the last.

"And that ties it all up," Gil said. "Solange made the deal in a bid to replace Verona." His grip on the bottle whitened his knuckles and Lisker hoped the man wouldn't break it in his hand. "Because of that bitch, they kidnapped my son and nearly strangled my town!"

"The Clutch is a bigger problem than Solange," Lisker said. "If they've got Second Earth tech, then the muskets might not be enough." It was with that ominous thought that they rose from the seats and made their way down to the empty storefront below the living areas. Gil, Dendel, and Benjamin each left for their respective homes, leaving him with Natalie and a somewhat drunk Maria.

"Why'sh my head shpinny?" she slurred, listing left and right as she failed to walk in a straight line.

"You had a bit too much," he replied and couldn't help the chuckle. Lisker had never imagined what Maria would be like drunk, yet was unsurprised that it had taken only one bottle of Benjamin's nuclear micro-brew to do it. His head was feeling a bit lighter after one, and Lisker was not only bigger but had far more experience with the sauce.

"Ahm nah drunk," she said before stumbling into Lisker's arms. "Ahm I?"

"I'd say you're loaded."

"Y'know shumthin'?" Maria asked as he hoisted her in his arms. "Ah luv ya, Lishker." She aimed for his lips, missed, and planted one on his chin instead.

"Come on, lush," Lisker chortled, "you've gotta sleep it off." He turned at the sound of the door opening to find Natalie making her exit.

"I think... I'd really like to be alone now."

"Had to be rough, talking about this."

"It was." Lisker couldn't have missed the strain in her voice, and he understood it. He said nothing as the door closed behind her.

_Poor kid,_ he thought as he made his way to the small bedchamber he shared with Maria, the latter giggling in his arms. Natalie was strong, of that he was certain, but she was still young and afraid even if she would never admit to it. She had a lot to work through.

Maria was snoring even before he set her onto the mattress.

Panthro looked at the charred remains of the ThunderTank, and wanted once again to wring Safari Joe's neck. She was totalled, that was for sure, and very little was salvageable. HoverCat One was in better shape, a goodly amount of its parts could be used to build a replacement, but the tank was a lost cause all the way around. He'd have to build a new one from scratch. He reviewed the inventory of components aboard the Gelnika and allowed a small smile. It was fitting, really, that Safari Joe's ship would be used to build a new ThunderTank before anything else.

The dark blue hide pants fit him snugly, the legs tucked into black boots and a loose white button-up adorning his massive torso. Panthro had checked and re-checked his appearance, which even he had to say was most uncharacteristic. Panthro tried to tell himself he wasn't avoiding Cheetara, though he had been ever since their blow-up over her relationship with Lion-O. There would be no avoiding her at the coronation, and he was beginning to wonder just how long it would take her to cool down. After their arguement, Panthro had begun to feel ashamed once the anger faded.

The indistinct shadow fell across his right side, and he closed his eyes in resignation. Tygra. It had to be.

"I know, the big moment isn't getting any farther away," he said, "but you know me. If you want a job done right, you gotta..."

"Avoid me like plague?" Cheetara's voice startled him. Panthro spun about to find her standing in the doorway to the main garage of the Depot (and he knew some called it the Junkyard behind his back) with a neutral expression on her face.

"Oh. Uh..." Panthro shook his head. Now was his chance to set things as right as he could between them. Cheetara had been his friend far too long for him not to man up now. "Hey, can we talk a minute?"

"I'm right here."

_Not the best of replies, but I'll take it,_ Panthro thought. If she was coming to him, maybe it was a chance to rebuild bridges that had been unintentionally burned.

"Look, I didn't mean for things to go like they did," he said. "I just wanted to know exactly how you felt about Lion-O, you know how tender his heart can be. I knew," and at this his shoulders slumped slightly, "that you'd get a little defensive, and I thought I could handle it." Panthro looked up at her, and noticed her face hadn't melted a bit. "I ignored the big 'Minefield Ahead' sign you gave me, and a big one blew up in my face." Panthro kept his eyes firmly on hers, and thought he saw a trace of softening. "After all the ass-chewings I've given, I'm man enough to know when I need one."

"What was it Jaga used to say," she began as she slowly entered the garage, "about that? 'Challenge your preconceptions, or they'll challenge you,' that's it. Looks like we both owe an apology." She sifted through some schematics regarding Second Earth vehicles he'd received from Turmagar's underground stockpile before continuing. "I know how much of a stickler you can be for tradition. Don't look at me like that, the thought of Lion-O possibly courting Willa nearly made you apoplectic. I also knew you'd want to get me alone, to make sure of my intentions." Cheetara heaved a sigh. "I was hearing what I expected you to say, not listening to your words. I own just as much of this as you do, Panthro."

"Aw, c'mon..."

"No. We both went off half-cocked."

"I apologize."

"So do I." Cheetara smiled openly at him.

"I was hoping this hadn't wrecked our friendship."

"You know it'll take more than one blow-up to do that. Two, three on the outside." Her face assumed the expression of sprightly amusement she rarely showed, eyes closed and a jaunty half-smile on her lips. Panthro recalled having seen it more often before the loss of Cougrix than afterward. "So, what do you call these things?" she asked after looking at the sheafs of paper in her hand.

"Turmagar said they're motorcycles," Panthro replied as he drew nearer and Cheetara examined the sheets.

"They look rather dangerous, what with only having two wheels."

"Some of them were almost as fast as you, if you can believe it."

"Scratch what I said earlier, they're extremely dangerous," she replied with astonishment. "Strange names, though. Yamaha, Kawasaki, Honda..."

"Those are from Sho's homeland. Real crotch-rockets, those. My favorite's at the rear." He watched as Cheetara passed by specs and names he'd memorized. Indian. Triumph. Moto Guzzi. BMW. Then...

"Harley-Davidson?" she asked. She looked more intently at the paper. "For some reason, I can see the appeal of this one."

"Really speaks to you, doesn't it?"

"You're planning to make one." she stated baldly.

"With some major improvements," Panthro replied, somewhat defensively. "Those things would be death-traps otherwise!" He laughed out loud at that. "Come on, we've got a king to coronate."

Laheela stared down at herself as she stood in the foyer of the new Cat's Lair, which was presently filling with people as the hour of Lion-O's coronation drew near. The dress she wore was of sky-blue fabric which shimmered slightly in the overhead lighting. It fit her curves without overly exaggerating them. The top reached to her shoulders and down to her wrists, while the lower portion slanted at a diagonal from her left thigh to her right knee. It was, by several longshots, far better than what she had worn as a concubine and on multiple levels. She had no aversion to intrinsically feminine apparrel, but she found the utlilitarian aspects of her uniform preferable to the more showy outfits the other women wore. She even liked the short-heeled half-boots on her feet.

Laheela then gazed at the other groupings, and sighed inwardly. Sho, in his formal cloak and all-blue one-piece, stood beside Myrlha. A gold bracelet, which the human had made for her in the forge, rested on her wrist as the two spoke softly to each other. Bengali and Pumyra, joined and with a cub, stood comfortably side by side. Kyranna and Torr, likewise but childless, did likewise. Wherever she looked, it seemed as though she was the only one alone.

"I see I'm not the only wallflower here." Tygra's voice caused her to jump slightly as she turned to face him in his black outfit, which she had learned was called a tuxedo. It fit his frame exceedingly well and lent him an elegant air she had never seen in the other Tyger before.

"Just... having trouble mingling," she said lamely as he stood at her side.

"Is there a reason why? We're all friends here."

"I know. It's just... I can't explain it. I want to blend in, but I just can't."

"I don't see a logical basis for that." Tygra sidled closer.

"Maybe... Oh, there isn't one." Laheela shook herself. "I just... I feel like I don't deserve to. I know that sounds weird, maybe even pathetic..."

"No, it doesn't sound pathetic." Tygra's voice carried a tone of sympathy and encouragement, so subtle she nearly missed it. "No one can expect you to recover from what you went through all at once."

"It's not that... well... some of it is. But..." Laheela wrestled with herself to go on, to get it out in the open. "It's the dreams."

"If you want to talk, I'm here." Laheela took comfort in that, much to her surprise. Tygra gave no promise of succor, no saccharine promises of everything being all right. Just offering his ear for her to fill.

"A lot of times," she began as they moved to a quieter corner of the foyer, "they would be about what Primor did to me, or the Kaldians who sold me to him. But... they're worse now."

Tygra kept silent, and Laheela found she could take strength from the aura of his presence.

"It's always the same one. I walk into Primor's quarters, dressed in that riduculous whatever-the-hell he had me wear all the time, but he's not there. I'm relieved, because I think maybe he had something come up, but when I turn around the door's gone. Everything goes black around me, silent. I can't even hear myself breathing.

"Then, there's this light, like I'm on stage, shining right in my eyes and that's when I feel them. They get closer and closer until they're standing in the light with me." At this point, Laheela had to stop and compose herself. She looked guiltily about to see if she'd attracted anyone's attention and found she hadn't. "All my handlers were other slaves, Primor didn't trust his own men to keep their mitts to themselves with me. He kept rotating them in and out of the pens to keep us from making any kind of plot against him, but sometimes they never made it back there. Some of them he'd end up selling off or handing to the captains under him. A lot of them... A lot of them I never saw again."

Tygra still said nothing, which alone prompted her to look up to his face. She saw no revulsion, no disgust. Only concern and compassion were etched into his features. He kept a close, yet still repectful, distance between them across which she could nearly feel his warm presence.

"Anyway, they're all staring at me, all of them stone silent. They don't move, they don't blink, they just stare and stare and stare. I want to go to them, to do... to say _something_ but I just can't make myself do it. After a while, I try to back away, but I don't get anywhere, they stay just a meter or so in front of me. That's when I start to hear something. I can't make it out at first, it's kind of a low buzz, but it becomes the word 'Why' repeated over and over."

"Why are you alive," Tygra replied, breaking his silence, "when we're not?"

"That's it," she said, stunned that he'd picked it up so quickly. "It gets so deep in my head that I start asking myself that. They all deserved to live, so why was it just me who made it?"

"It's a natural reaction," Tygra explained gently as his curled finger came under her chin and guided her face back to his. "Once the horror of your situation was over and things looked to be improving, you began to think about the people who died back then and feel guilty over them. Laheela, their deaths were tragic, even cruel and needless, but they weren't your fault. Besides, you had rather a large part in rescuing the others who lived. Also, in avenging those who didn't."

"I know." She could say nothing more on the matter for the moment, but was grateful to Tygra for bringing her to say as much as she did. Laheela looked over to Sho as he and Myrlha shared a laugh over a joke she hadn't heard. "I like talking to you, Tygra."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Look at him, would you?" Tygra, puzzled, gazed about until he found the human.

"What about him?"

"You might find this funny, but when I look at Sho, I see a man not so different from Lisker." The confused grimace which creased Tygra's face nearly made her chortle, which in itself made her more comfortable with him.

"Of course," he replied, "but you might not want to say that to Sho's face."

"It's not an insult, Tygra." Laheela then explained about Lisker's reaction to their countrymen being beaten without mercy, at how he had claimed it to be so they could work faster. Then, how Lisker had begun keeping watches over them while they toiled. Finally, about the Wollo he'd protected that first time.

"I still don't see your comparison," Tygra said with a shake of his head.

"Sho has a good heart," Laheela began, "but it's out in the open for everyone to see. Maria, the Wollo woman, somehow found the same kind of goodness in Lisker and coaxed it out of its hiding place. Mostly, those two are as different as night and day, but they have that same light inside them."

"I see." Tygra's face became contemplative. "Humans have always been something of a mystery to me. Sho and Lisker have only deepened it."

"One day, we might just crack it," Laheela said as the chime sounded.

The assembled crowd which had greeted Lion-O's eyes on setting foot outside the new Cat's Lair sent a shock throughout his nerves. The Lair itself was different, lower to the ground and reminiscent of the ancient structure of First Earth which had been called the Sphynx. It sat, low and aggressive, as if in watch over the entirety of New Thundera Colony. All the systems were in place and had been checked ad nauseum.

"Lion-O," Cheetara said, her voice being picked up by the subtle microphones set about the central portion of the courtyard and relayed by speakers. "This day, you take the mantle of King of Thundera."

"This day," Lion-O replied in accordance to the ancient ceremony, "I accept." Cheetara turned to Bengali, who held a gold crown atop a red velvet pillow, and retrieved it before facing him again. Lion-O bowed his head for her to place the ringlet of gold and rubies atop his head. Panthro and Tygra approached from the rear, each bearing the sapphire cape and placing it on his shoulders.

"Today, I stand before you as king," Lion-O began, "and my first command is thus. Hit the switch!" At that, Tygra engaged the remote which channeled the power of the reactor to the city.

The result was immediate. Lights flickered into life in all corners of New Thundera Colony. Cheers rose up in a crashing wave from those below as the lights came on, a massive bonfire was set alight in the center of the former campsite.

"People of New Thundera Colony," Lion-O began, "let's celebrate!" The cheers echoed into the sky from the gathered people, and Lion-O smiled.

The party had been in full swing for over an hour when Cheetara and Lion-O found themselves meandering the streets among the other revellers, her arm in his and the noise of celebration nearly deafening. The people of the colony weren't merely celebrating the construction; they were celebrating being together as a people again. More were out there, scattered among the stars, and she knew that they would find their way home. Somehow.

The people who actually took notice of them bowed respectfully, even reverently as they walked past. Lion-O spoke with quite a few of them, which resulted in more than a little stammering and rather a lot of "Your Highnesses" and "M'lords". Cheetara wanted to chuckle at the consternation he was valiantly trying to hide.

"You'd best get used to it," she said as they continued their walk.

"I'm trying," Lion-O replied. "Just didn't think it would be so... so strange."

"You're a king, now... Whoops!" They stopped just before they could run into the nervous woman who had stepped in front of them.

"I... I'm so sorry!" she nearly squeaked. With a mortified hand over her mouth, the tawny woman bowed.

"It's fine," Lion-O said gently. Cheetara noticed the red of her waist-length hair, and the brownish coloration of skin that the plain blue dress showed from the knee down. A mix of Lion and Jaguar clans, most likely.

"I... I wasn't wearing my glasses... Can't see a thing without them."

"What's your name?" Cheetara asked after the woman managed to put the specticals on.

"Oh..."

"Hey, Felina!" shouted a brassy voice from the right. "Whatcha doin' staring at... Oh!" The newcomer was pureblooded Lion, and seemed the exact polar opposite of the now-named Felina. Red hair fell to the shoulders of the bottlegreen shirt which was tucked into a pair of black denim pants and twin braided bangs framed the sides of her sprightly face. "It's an honor, Majesty!" Some of the brass faded from her voice, but those eyes still brimmed with confidence.

"Likewise," Lion-O said with a laugh. "I didn't mean to startle the two of you."

"I'm Purrsia," the Lioness said with a broad smile. "My starstruck friend over here is Felina. LOVE that dress, by the way!"

"Thank you," Cheetara replied with a grin of her own. _I could get to like this one,_ she thought idly.

"By the by," Purrsia began, "there's a bar openin' up soon, a Bolkin set the place up and hired us on as help. That's him, over there." she pointed to one of the streetside stands where said Bolkin was handing out squat glasses of a thick amber liquid. "Bundan's dishin' out samples of the house special. Says he got the recepie from a guy way up north. Benjamin, I think the name was. Either way, it'll knock your _socks_ off!"

"_PURRSIA!_" Felina sqwawked. "Have you lost your mind?! You... you can't talk to the king that way!"

"It's fine, really," Lion-O said. "Pleasure to meet the both of you."

"C'mon, Miss Stick-in-the-Mud, let's live a little!" The seemingly mismatched pair walked into the crowds, and Lion-O's eyes followed them.

"What is it?"

"I've just got the strangest feeling that I know those two from somewhere," he replied, clearly bewildered.

"Hmmm... That's funny, so do I." They looked at each other for a moment before laughing it off.

"Probably just seen them around during construction," Lion-O said.

"I'll bet that's it. Uh-oh, take a look." Lion-O followed her line of sight just as WilyKit finished knocking back a tumbler of the booze. A high blush had colored her face, that one clearly hadn't been the first. Or second. Likely not even third.

"Maybe you should warn her about hitting the sauce so hard."

"Sometimes," Lion-O replied with mock gravity, "experience is the best teacher."

The party had stretched long into the night and was still going strong as the dark began to fade. Sho, whose head was buzzing pleasantly, stood atop the observation platform at the top of the new Cat's Lair and looked out over the glowing colony. The sight reminded him of home, so far away and so far in the past. The noise of the crowd was a dull roar reminiscent of the ocean on an otherwise silent day.

Sho looked down at the glass in his hand before shrugging his shoulders and tossing back the rest of the candyfruit wine. Its flavor was heavy, nearly oppressive, and Sho had drank the one offered by Salvador out of politeness. If it came down to a choice between drinking candyfruit wine and drinking lukewarm piss, Sho would have to put some serious thought into it. At the very least, it showed how low his alcohol tolerance was. Two glasses had him riding quite high indeed, but enough was enough.

"Not drunk are you?"

"Just put the brakes on," he replied as Myrlha's arms encircled him from behind. Sho ran his hands up them, warmth not connected to the booze rushing through him.

"Y'know, it's really weird," Sho said. "I never would've thought so much good could come from all that evil."

"Triumph sometimes comes from tragedy. When we were slaves, none of us would've imagined being brought together as a race once again. That we'd have a home, or that anyone would ever stand up for us." Myrlha's arms squeezed tighter, her voice now tickling his ear. "I never thought I'd fall in love with someone who wasn't Thunderian, but along you came." A kiss, long and sweet, fell upon Sho's cheek.

"Still having a hard time believing I actually had a hand in this. That I helped build something instead of destroying it. That... that... That I can maybe make a life here."

"Both of us can." They remained together in companionable silence for a while, looking out over the city lights. "It's a new start for everyone."

"I'm headed for bed. Coming?"

"Not yet, but I think you can fix that."

"Myrlha!" Sho cried as she released him. Turning about, he saw the smile of good humor on her face and the look in her eye he had come to know well. "Have you always been so insatiable?"

"Are you complaining?"

"Not a bit. Race ya."

WilyKit found herself knelt in supplication, the dread anticipation and knowledge of the inevitable nature brewing a curious mixture of revulsion and relief.

It was coming. Faster and faster. It was racing toward her in the manner of a comet, coming without pause or delay and leaving her helpless to escape its grip.

And then it was upon her, leaving her in a moment of great catharsis and WilyKit let go, surrendered to a force greater than herself, a thing over which she would never have control. Muscles tightened, the feeling swelled to a mighty crecendo, and then faded as it passed to leave her in a nowhere realm of profound silence.

The silence was shortly shattered by the sound of three cannon blasts and a voice which drove a white-hot spike of pain through her head.

"Hey, sis!" WilyKat said from the other side of the door. "You okay? Didn't fall in, didja?"

WilyKit helplessly groped for the toilet's handle and flushed it on the fourth try before raising her head to glare at the sealed bathroom door with bloodshot eyes.

"Go... away..." she croaked miserably as the hangover banged drums in her brain.

"Hey, I tried to warn you!"

"Ugghhhh... That's it," she said, "I'm not going near that shit again... OH...!"

The morning after, WilyKit was coming to learn, could be a real bitch.

The true reason for the Clutch's seige of Watershed is revealed when a defector from the marauder band is seized just beyond the town's walls. On learning of the new developments within the mysterious group of bandits, Lisker is faced with the choice to either pursue and annihilate them and their new commander, or to liberate hundreds of enslaved and wounded people from their former employer. Stay tuned for the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	10. Decisions

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Purrsia, Felina, and the Bolkin Bar are the creative property of Purrsia Kat, and are used with permission.

Eye of the Storm

Episode Ten

For Tygra, who stood across from Lion-O in the expansive throne room which the original Lair had lacked, reality seemed to have taken a subtle shift. As though he had entered his quarters to find everything slightly off-kilter, some unkind soul having gone in and shifted everything two inches to the left.

The throne room itself was a spacious hall, gleaming stone flooring spreading from a streak of plush red carpet which led to the seat of power itself. Eight pillars, four on each side, lined the carpet and reached from floor to ceiling. Beyond them, high windows let in the cheerful morning sunshine and bathed the uncovered stone in a golden light. Lion-O himself sat on the steps to the raised platform on which the throne rested, cape absent but the crown still in place. It seemed almost painfully informal, but it was only the two of them in the throne room.

"You... want me to what?" he asked, mouth dry.

"I know I didn't stutter." Lion-O rose from the steps and closed the distance between them in four strides. The other's hand fell on Tygra's shoulder. "You did just fine last time."

"That was different," Tygra replied. "It was a crisis situation, and I knew you'd recover!"

"It also showed me you can handle the duties that come with being Lord of the ThunderCats."

"A few weeks is one thing, but full-time?"

"Come off it, Tygra. I've already explained my reasoning behind this. I know I can't make it a royal command, the law doesn't work that way on this, but I'm asking you as a friend to do it."

Tygra's mouth snapped shut, though his mind was still in high gear. The thought that Lion-O would do something like this had never occurred to him. Everyone, he was sure, assumed the man would hold both titles until an heir was born and had come of age. Though it pleased him immensely to see Lion-O acknowledging limitations and how difficult it would be to ensure his saftey out in the field, Tygra wished he had chosen anyone else. Panthro, maybe. Cheetara, though given their relationship it would have raised more than a few eyebrows in regards to ethics. No, Tygra was head of the council, and as such the logical choice until an heir was born.

_I can say no,_ he thought. _I can refuse, and he'll have to put it to another._ Power was extremely addictive, and addiction was something Tygra had some experience with. Would he be able to use that power and authority wisely?

"I'll... I'll think about it." Lion-O, to his puzzlement, merely smiled as though that had been the answer he'd expected.

"Good enough." The hand fell away after a friendly squeeze. "I've got quite a bit on my plate today, best get to it." Tygra, after a repectful bow of the head and shoulders, turned to leave. Of all the things he'd expected, this had not been one of them.

Panthro circled Sho on the mat in the Lair's gym, the latter's eyes never straying from him and searching for any opening to attack. The green mat was situated in the center of the workout space, with weight benches and treadmills on one end and the opposite holding a set of uneven bars and a pair of rings which hung from sturdy chains in the ceiling. All the work in mining, hauling, and construction had beefed the human up considerably and Panthro found himself pleased. It made training so much easier. Sho's hits had begun to sting at first, then actually hurt a little.

_Excellent,_ he thought. _The kid's shaping up nicely._ They were both barechested and soaked in sweat, each wearing a pair of simple white pants and no footwear. The belt around Sho's waist was gold, indicating his level of skill. Panthro's was solid black with several blue strips.

The attack was sudden, though Panthro still noted the increase in Sho's speed as the obvious feint streaked to the deliberate opening he'd left. The human rolled with the downward chop to the shoulder and hit the mat with Panthro's legs between his. The Thunderian, in momentary surprise, realized what Sho's gameplan was a hair too late as the legs scissored and a powerful impact landed behind his knees.

_Where did _that_ come from?!_ Panthro thought as he caught himself on his hands and flipped back up. _I never taught him that!_ Sho was once more on his feet, ready to move in for another strike.

"Enough." Panthro said simply. Sho fell out of battle stance at once. "Not bad, Sho. Not bad at all."

"Been waiting to break that out on you," the human replied, his breathing already returning to normal. "Guess you saw it coming."

"Almost didn't. Nice to get a surprise now and then." The two moved to the table nearby, on which rested a jar of water with glasses and towels. Myrlha, who watched their training sessions whenever her schedule permitted, sat with her chin on her knees and rose when they drew near. Panthro tossed Sho a towel and pretended not to notice the way Myrlha looked at her love.

_If the kid can keep up with that one,_ he thought, _no wonder he's keeping up with me._ Panthro nearly laughed out loud at that.

"Thank you, Sensei," Sho said with a short bow before downing a glass of water.

"Heh. Outta all the fighters I've trained, you're only the second to thank me for the bruises."

"Us masochists are a rare breed," he replied with a grin "I'm sure I wouldn't know the other one."

"It's a story for later. Hey, Myrlha?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to wear the guy out too much."

"No promises," Myrlha said as Sho's face turned nearly crimson.

Laheela nearly did a double-take as she passed Tygra in the Lair's east wing. The man's eyes were distant, clouded and he seemed to take only superficial notice of his surroundings.

"Tygra?" she asked. "Hey, Tygra, what's going on?" Since the night of the coronation, she had been finding reasons to be around him. Talking to Tygra was becoming easier with each day, and her conversational skills with the other ThunderCats were gradually improving.

"Hm? Oh, hello, Laheela. I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

"Are you okay?" she asked, worried.

"Fine. Just fine."

"Not to be rude, but either Pumyra just told you you're having the next baby around here or you went into her pain blends." Speaking in such a manner was something she thought she'd never be able to do again, yet Tygra's calm nature and innate kindness had allowed a slow return of the witty tongue she once had and that being Primor's concubine had nearly driven out. "You've let me do all the talking, now it's my turn."

"It's... I've got a lot on my mind right now."

"Know the feeling." Laheela's next words came automatically. "Want some advice? You've given me so much, I oughtta return the favor."

"Please." The tone in that word struck a chord in her. Whatever was eating him, it was big. "I think I could use some right now."

"Stop thinking about it."

"It's not that simple."

"I don't mean right now. Take some time tonight to think about other things, and then sleep on whatever's gnawing at you. It might take awhile, but it always works for me."

"I don't mean to be secretive, but this is rather too large to distract myself from."

"Then why don't I help?" The words were out before she could think about them.

"What?!" Tygra's eyes cleared as they clicked onto hers, and again her mouth went on autopilot.

"There's a new bar that opened up, it's not far from here. I've been meaning to check the place out, and I didn't want to do it alone." It was true, even. Laheela had wanted to visit the still-unnamed Bolkin Bar, and had been loathe to do so without compay.

To be brutally honest, without Tygra.

"From what I hear, it's got a great menu, and the prices are good also." Having become a civilization had required a form of currency. Since gold was the most sought-after precious metal behind silver, and for the colony Thundrillium, a new economy was developing around it. Barter just wouldn't cut it any longer.

"Hmmm..." Tygra appeared to be deep in thought for a moment. "I think I'll take you up on that."

"I'm free tonight. Say, seven?" Again, her mouth had popped into gear on its own. Laheela belatedly wondered what she would wear once Tygra accepted.

"I'll meet you at your quarters then." With that, Tygra went on his way and she stood rooted in place, wondering what had just happened.

_Okay,_ she thought, _did I just ask Tygra on a date?_

After some deliberation, her mind replied with an affirmative.

_Huh. So, he accepted?_

After a brief moment, said mind returned another affirmative.

_How did this happen?!_ Laheela shook her head at it all as nervous flutters twitched in her stomach. It didn't matter. Laheela had a confirmed date. With a man. A man she liked very much.

_I love it when a machine comes together,_ Panthro thought as, once more in uniform, he welded two of the connector joints of the new ThunderTank. The interior structure was coming together on schedule, and at that moment Bengali was working with Sho on banging out new armor plating. Before the madness of the Mutant War broke out, he had been working with Tygra on a new protective coating which would increase the durability of the armor by at least seventy percent. The new tank was shaping up to be as close to indestructable as any vehicle could get.

"It's looking good, Panthro," Cheetara said as she entered the Depot. "Did you call me out here just to get a sneak preview?"

"Thanks, but no," he said. The new joint welded, Panthro cut off the torch and removed the welder's mask. "It's been a while since you wore a training outfit."

"It's been some years," she replied, taking a seat before a long bench strewn with unfinished parts. "Why?"

"I could use your help with Sho," he explained. "There's some issues in the guy's training I think you could help clarify."

"I see," she said, and Panthro knew further explanation was unnecessary. "When?"

"Tomorrow, 'bout three."

"I'm clear then. You got it."

"Just so you know," Panthro said with a grin, "he's the second one to ever be grateful for getting the crap kicked outta him."

"Oh?" Cheetara's eyes widened at that. "This should be interesting. See you then." Cheetara took her leave as Panthro re-donned the mask.

_Lookin' forward to this,_ he thought as the torch flared into life again.

Night had begun to fall as Laheela left her chambers. The twin pistols rested in their belt, which she had left on the bed. Though she felt almost naked without them, she knew they wouldn't be needed. Not on a...

_A date..._

It wasn't a date. Laheela kept telling herself that over and over. They were just going out to dinner, two friends having a meal. That was all. Tygra drew near as the door slid shut, and she was relieved to see that he'd put no special effort in dressing up. Just his normal uniform, though the bolo whip was absent.

"Shall we?" he asked and the pair set off. Conversation was light as they maneuvered through the halls of Cat's Lair and passed through the front door. The sky was reddish-gold that was fading quickly to dusk, dark enough for the for the sensors in the street lamps to kick over and set the bulbs aglow. Laheela noted the mix of people in the streets, different clans of Thundera as well as samples of Third Earthers walking about on their own business. The task of taking a census had fallen to her, and she was still compiling data on names and occupations. Laheela, quite frankly, needed an assistant yet her still-reserved conditioning had prevented her from asking. In fact, she had a name in mind and it belonged to a person who currently worked in the establishment they were headed toward.

_So, it's not a date,_ she told herself firmly.

The Bolkin Bar itself was a study in simplicity. A dozen or so tables rested in the lobby, with a long bar at the back which was currently manned by a Lion female. Some plants hung in wicker baskets from the ceiling, the aroma of them mixing pleasantly with the smells of the kitchen in the rear. The balcony which was the second floor ran around the perimeter, lined with more tables kept discreet distances apart.

"Heya!" the woman behind the bar enthused. "What can I getcha?!"

"I've heard about the houe special," Tygra said. "Two of those?"

"A man of taste. Just pick a table, and I'll have it right out!" A few of the ground floor tables were occupied, with people of various lineage eating and talking in low tones. Laheela's heart began to skip slightly as Tygra led her to the stairs and up into the balcony. The air seemed more hushed, the aura of privacy very much in evidence.

"Thank you," she said as Tygra pulled a chair out for her before taking a seat across the cozy round table. All it needed was a lit candle in the middle to complete the romantic image.

_Ramp it down, girl,_ she told herself. It wasn't as if Tygra was about to hit on her. Right?

"Here ya go," the barmaid said as she placed the two brown bottles before them with a pair of menus.

"Any recommendations?" Laheela asked and marvelled at how calm her voice sounded.

"The fish stew is tonight's main dish, and lemme tell ya it's great." The woman sounded like she meant it. "Bundan's a great cook."

"There's a name I haven't heard in a long while," Tygra replied. "I think I'll try that."

"Uh... same here."

"Right! I'm Purrsia, an' if ya need anythin', just give a holler."

"Thank you," Tygra said as she bounced off. "Certainly loves her work, doesn't she?"

"Hey, Bundan! Two of the stew!" Purrsia said as she passed the kitchen. Felina looked up in surprise.

"Why didn't you tell me a table walked in?"

"Two ThunderCats at this one. Didn't want 'em wearing their dinner home, I know how nervous you get around Nobility."

"Thanks for that," Bundan said with a wink as Felina's fingers began to twitch. "Please don't drop that bowl, dear."

The bowls of stew arrived in short order, piping hot and with a tray of what Purrsia had called breadsticks. The meal was every bit as good as the woman had claimed, and Laheela found herself thinking the Bolkin Bar was gonna be a hit.

"So," she said, "made any progress on the mystery of humanity?"

"None, I'm afraid." Whatever had been bugging him before was still doing a job on him, she noticed.

"Look, whatever it is, just put it out of your mind. Sleep on it. You don't have to tell me what it is if you don't want to."

"You know, you're right," Tygra replied with a slow smile. "I'm out having dinner with a beautiful woman. I should enjoy it." Laheela took a pull of the local beer, and vowed not to have more than one bottle. It was potent stuff. "That reminds me, tomorrow's experiment! I can't believe I almost forgot."

"Experiment?"

"We're finally about to start running some analyses on Sho's weaponry," he replied, "tomorrow, we're going to compile data on the megasmasher."

"Is that what he calls that huge chest-beam?"

"It's an apt name."

"Sure is." Despite herself, Laheela recalled the sight of Guyvers One and Two firing them together. "Why bother, if you don't mind me asking? It's not like we have enemies on Third Earth any more."

"Panthro's convinced that, if a living suit of armor can convert human bio-energy into a blast like that, we should be able to mechanically duplicate it. Sho's done a lot, but New Thundera Colony can't depend on him entirely for our own defense."

"Against what?" she asked after another mouthful of stew. It wasn't as if a bunch of Trollogs were going to storm the colony at any moment.

"We know there have to be others among the stars, more who survived Thundera's destruction, and we're debating ways of making contact and letting them know there's a home waiting for them. The quickest way would be an encrypted signal broadcast via subspace buoy."

"If Plun-Darr intercepts that..." Laheela fell off, a creeping horror slowly moving up her spine.

"Exactly. Their military will blaze a trail directly to Third Earth. We don't want to use this method, but if it's the only way, then we'll need to be prepared to deal with any unwelcome visitors to our new home." They fell into silence for a while, the thought of a Mutant force much larger than Primor's marauder group sobering them. "I see you're sleeping better."

"Huh?"

"The circles under your eyes have faded. No more dreams?"

"No." Laheela didn't know if she'd ever be able to properly express her gratitude for that. Since the first time they'd spoken, her sleep had been deep and dreamless. "I guess I just needed to get all that off my chest."

"I'm glad I could help." Tygra's hand appeared on hers briefly and a jolt shot through her nerves from the short contact. Laheela actually missed its presence when Tygra removed it and ate more of the stew.

_For a guy who's not seducing me,_ she thought giddily, _he's doing a damn fine job of seducing me._

"How goes the census work?" he asked. Tygra's voice, though sociable and friendly, was still hushed slightly. The ambience of the balcony tables subtlely demanded it.

"I'm nowhere near done," she said in response. "Aside from our people, there are dozens of Wollos, more than a handful of Bolkins, and a whole mess of Berbils who decided they liked the place after it was built and decided to stay. The colony is something of a melting pot."

"Like Lion-O said, Third Earth was their home before we crashed out of the sky."

"They helped build this place, so welcome home I say."

"Getcha another round?" Purrsia asked as she came up.

"Better go easy on this brew," Tygra said, "but tell Bundan it's excellent."

"Sure will. I'll take care of those dishes for ya." The table bussed, Purrsia took her leave again.

"What's the rate for tips, twenty percent?"

"Last I heard." Tygra left enough coin, stamped with the ThunderCat symbol on one side and the image of Leoran on the other, to cover the meal and a generous tip before making their exit from the Bolkin Bar. Though the sky was pitch-dark, the streets were brightly lit and on the walk back to Cat's Lair, she stayed closer to Tygra's side than she had on the trip out. Laheela almost didn't notice when they came to her quarters.

"Well, here we are," Tygra said, uncertain.

"Yeah, we are," she said, and was suddenly certain he was going to kiss her. Certain as well that she'd let him.

"I had a wondeful time."

"Yeah, me, too." _I actually hope he's going to do it!_

"We should do this again."

"Oh, definitely." Laheela stretched up to plant a light kiss on the corner of Tygra's mouth before opening the door and dashing through.

_Tygra was just as nervous as I was,_ she thought, leaning against the door to her chambers. Never in her life had she met a man who stirred feelings like this, and that quick pop had been her control loosening a bit. Another moment and she might have invited him in, and...

_I would have let him make all kinds of love to me. Let's not beat around the bush, I would have boinked his brains out._

Laheela's affection for Tygra, this little date had revealed, burned a damn sight hotter than she'd realized. Maria's wish for her to find someone to love returned to her, and she wondered just where the Wollo and Lisker had settled on Third Earth before darting into the bathroom for a cold shower that, ultimately, did not prevent her from entertaining a fantasy or two before bed, for the first time her days as a concubine so far from her mind they might have happened to a different person.

For Tygra, who stood on the other side of Laheela's door for a few moments, things had ended in confusion. What was supposed to have been dinner with a friend had begun to feel far more intimate as the evening went on and as usual he had been at a loss for words by the end of the night. Laheela's kiss still lingered on the corner of his mouth before she had seemingly fled from him.

_I didn't do a thing,_ he thought. _I didn't so much as make a pass at her. What was that about?_ Tygra turned and left, thinking that he'd never understand women.

The ThunderStrike sat in the morning sun as Tygra, Lynx-O, Pumyra, Panthro, and Sho set up the sensor arrays which would record the data gleaned from the firing of the megasmasher. The hardpan wasteland near the site of the former Tower of Omens was, for obvious reasons, the ideal place to perform said experiment. Lynx-O's portable Braille Board would record everything as a backup module to the main sensor array which Panthro and Tygra would man. Pumyra would take Sho's vitals both before and after bio-boosting, then again once the experiment was concluded. Sho, per Tygra's instruction, was to do nothing so as not to alter the results until setup was complete.

"Systems check," he said. The decision Lion-O had placed in front of him still weighed heavily on his mind, and he knew the other would not want to wait long. A snippet of song bubbled up from his brain, a lyric from one of the scads of music discs Sho called CDs which had been found in the subterrainian stockpile of the Tuskas. Take your time, hurry up, the choice is yours, don't be late. Tygra had no clue what ancient band had written that, but WilyKat had fallen in love with it along with another from people who called themselves Slipknot.

"All green," Panthro replied. "Pumyra?"

"Medscanner is adjusted and ready."

"Braille Board standing by."

"Alright, then," Tygra said. "We've only got one shot at collecting this data today. Let's not waste it."

"Vital signs are normal," Pumyra said as she ran the scanner over the human. "Everything's on track." Sho then moved to the center of a semicircle of sensor arrays which were several meters distant.

"GUYVER!" A thin plume of dust billowed into the air as the barrier appeared with a loud boom and the armor merged with the man.

"It's like the fabric of space gets ripped open when he does that," Panthro muttered as the equipment scanned the shield. Pumyra stepped up to the transformed Sho, and looked at her scanner in utter confusion.

"I can't tell where the Guyver ends and Sho begins," she said. "I've never seen readings like this!"

"Sho," Tygra began, "we need this data to be as complete as possible. Once Pumyra steps away, I want you to open the megasmasher before powering up."

"Our first date, and you already want me to expose my chest!" Sho cried in mock outrage. "You don't even buy me dinner first! I feel... I feel so... so CHEAP! Are you even going to call me tomorrow like you said?"

The serious mood shattered like glass.

Panthro doubled over, bellowing gales of laughter as he fell on his rear. Pumyra, for her part, was holding her stomach and staggering backward. Even Lynx-O held a fist to his mouth, shoulders trembling with the hilarity he was trying to keep in.

"OKAY, OKAY! IT WAS A DATE! IS EVERYONE SATISFIED?!" The good-natured ribbing he'd endured about his evening with Laheela, and constant denials of it being an actual date, had worn on Tygra's patience. "You all realize that Lion-O is going to be watching this?" _And will probably get just as big a kick out of it,_ he thought. The roar of laughter faded to chuckling. "Now, do you understand, Sho?"

"Yeah. Hey, sorry about that but I had to do it."

"At least it's out of your system. Now, if we could please continue?" Tygra couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice. Sho turned around once more and grasped the armor's breastplates. "Open in three... two... one... now!" The plates opened with a slight pop. "Begin sequence."

"Four hundred gigajoules and rising," Panthro said from his monitor. "Eight hundred." The light built just in front of Sho, shimmering and growing rapidly to a blinding brilliance.

"Temperature has increased nearly two hundred degrees," Lynx-O said, referring to the immediate area about Sho.

"Sho's got to be boiling in that thing!" Pumyra shouted as the power increased.

"Fifteen hundred gigajoules... Eighteen... Two thousand... Twenty-one fifty..." Tygra could hear the shrill whine of the lenses building that destructive might. "Twenty-two hundred!" Panthro exclaimed. "It's not climbing any higher. Peak charge reached!"

"Fire!" Tygra shouted. The result was immediate. A roar as the twin beams of light streaked into the distance, dust violently displaced flying everywhere, and data readouts going absolutely wild until the burst faded.

"I'll never get used to seeing that," Panthro said softly as they beheld the trench carved into the desert.

"So, any ideas on how to make a weapon like that?" Tygra asked as the computers sorted and displayed the information gained.

"It'll take a damn sight more than thundrillium," he replied. "Plus, systems that can handle that much power building up so quickly."

"Vitals are still normal, Sho," Pumyra said once the armor vanished.

"Good. Training's at three today." Tygra saw Panthro's grin at that and wondered what the other man had in store.

"Thank you all for your help today," Tygra said. "Now, let's pack up and get back home."

"Panthro," Pumyra said as she came up and started to take down the sensor equipment. The arrays themselves were still too hot to touch. "just what in the heck is a gigajoule anyway?"

"You wouldn't have wanted to see on on your electric bill, I can tell you that. Not unless you had about twelve billion Thunderian to blow."

"Wow." The wide-eyed stare made Panthro laugh.

"Just an exaggeration. I'll keep it simple. Ever see a blasting rock back on Thundera?"

"No, but I heard about them." One of the geological mysteries of the planet, the rocks were a strange form of mineralized nitroglycerin. Powerful, yet unstable, their use in mining had been short-lived and operations to clear them from the more mountainous regions of the planet had still been ongoing just before its destruction.

"Okay, this example's a little rough, but it'll give you an idea of what just happened here. To get the power output... could you hand me that cable?"

"Here."

"Thanks. To get the power output of that megasmasher blast, you'd need a blasting rock that was about ninety meters in diameter, the same in thickness, and weighed in at about two hundred metric tons."

"Again, wow," she said as they hoisted the computer module and carried it to one of the ThunderStrike's outrigger pods.

"Set that bugger off, and focus the explosive energy into a single concussive stream, and that's how hard the megasmasher hits."

"Moons of Thundera, no _wonder_ that beam wipes out everything it hits!" she exclaimed as they eased the device into the pod.

"Well, that's only half the picture," Panthro said as they walked back to retrieve the other computer bank. Sho, Tygra, and Lynx-O were still busy coiling cables. "It's not just the hardest punch to the face ever recorded by Thunderiankind. It's also a particle beam."

"I'm no expert on weapons."

"A particle beam consists of highly charged subatomic particles on top of insane concussive force. In essence..."

"Watch your step."

"Thanks, didn't see that rock. A particle beam tears its targets apart on the subatomic level. Put that kind of boom together with a that kind of beam, and you've got the megasmasher."

"Think you can make one?"

"Before today, I would've bet money on it. Now, though..." Panthro trailed off as they carried the other computer bank. "I have no idea how that armor can convert bio-energy into that blast. Any thoughts on your end?"

"Just as stumped. If we found a dormant Guyver unit somewhere, I could probably get more accurate scans of the organism itself."

"Well, according to Sho, there aren't any. Personally, I'm glad for that. I mean, what if Slythe had ever gotten hold of one? Or Grune?" There was nothing else that needed to be said on the subject.

Sho entered the gym to find Panthro already suitably attired and ready. Myrlha sat in her usual spot, on the floor near the table where the customary pitcher, glasses, and towels were in wait.

"What is it," Sho began jokingly as he started the daily dozen routine of stretching and limbering up, "about watching two sweaty guys strip to the waist and try to beat the crap outta each other?"

"Entertainment's where you find it, and a free show is a free show," Myrlha replied with a wink. Sho had no real clue if her use of that one word was as intended or a play on his name.

"Well, Sensei," Sho said once through the stretches, "let's get to it."

"Not this time."

"Huh?"

"I'm not your sparring partner today," Panthro said as the door to the gym opened. Sho turned to see Cheetara enter, clad as the two of them were but for the addition of a loose shirt.

"This does not bode well," Sho said softly as she walked nearer. "Can I assume she's the first one to thank you for the bruises?"

"Pretty quick on the uptake, Sho," she replied in Panthro's stead. "Until further notice, you spar with me." Cheetara's hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she looked all business.

_Aw, balls!_ Sho thought. _I can't hit CHEETARA of all people! Even if I WANTED to, I literally couldn't she's so fast!_

"Think you can spar with a woman?" Cheetara asked as she stepped onto the mat, her face set and hard.

"Uh... no?"

"Why not?"

"You're my friend!"

"So, what, Panthro's your enemy?"

"I knew it," Panthro muttered softly.

"Knew what?"

"Sho's got the whole 'Don't hit girls' rule stuck in his head. If he can't get over it, he's gonna have a rough time with her. Took me a while to get past it, myself."

"So, how did you?"

"Same way Sho's going to. My instructor was a lot of things, but male wasn't one of them."

"Oh."

"KYAH!" Cheetara's shout was Sho's only warning as she darted in and began a series of short punches which he managed to block, yet failed to take advantage of the openings she'd made on purpose. "What's wrong, Sho? Fight me!"

"I..."

Cheetara moved in again, and a kick landed Sho's stomach before two jabs smashed into his face. The blows weren't at full strength, but she hadn't held much back either.

"It's not like I'm going to use my speed on the mat, Sho. I was told you'd gotten pretty good, and I wanted to see it myself. Don't disappoint me."

"I can't hit you."

"Why? Because I'm a woman? That's it, isn't it? You can't hit a female."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Everything. It's the exact opposite of thinking that a woman can't fight a man."

"I've seen you fight. You know I'm not saying that."

"You are, even if you don't mean to." Cheetara darted in again, and Sho took advantage by ducking low and sweeping his left leg about in a failed attempt to take out her legs. "Not good enough, Sho, not even close."

"I can't do it!" he exclaimed.

"You can, and you will," Panthro said. "You're gonna spar with Cheetara every day until you get that through your head."

"Is this necessary?"

"If you want to fight Lisker it is," Cheetara replied. "Now, come at me!" Sho came no closer, and Cheetara obliged instead.

"That woman's _good_ at this," Myrlha whispered as Sho took a body blow that staggered him.

"I trained her. What do you expect?" Cheetara deliberately overextended her arm on a strike Sho dodged, and the human used that to toss her over his shoulder. On rolling up from the mat, she assumed battle stance once more.

"No throws, no joint locks, you're past that now. This isn't self-defense, it's combat training. If I don't have a mark on me by the time this session ends, you can expect worse tomorrow."

"Does she mean that, Panthro?" Myrlha asked.

"Every word."

"Is she even holding back?"

"Plenty."

"I have to admit," Siberias said as he sat across from Pumyra in the chambers she, Darin, and Bengali called home, "the scans of Sho's transformed state are puzzling in the extreme." Two mugs of coffee sat between them on the table in the foyer, Pumyra occupying the sofa with Darin in her arms and Siberias in the stuffed chair Bengali often sat in after a shift in the Forge.

"It's not like any symbiotic relationship I've ever seen," she replied before kissing Darin on the forehead. The infant slept peacefully in her arms, swaddled in a blanket and innocent of the world. "It's... Is it possible?"

"Pumyra?"

"The Guyver is an alien organism, maybe it works on an entirely new principle of symbiosis!" Though her voice rose, she still kept it hushed.

"Keep going."

"Symbiosis is when one organism attaches to another, with beneficial effects for both. What if the Guyver goes a step further? What if it literally bonds with the host organism?"

"Instead of two beings benefitting from one another, the two become literally one?"

"Exactly! Sho summons the Guyver, and instead of one being within another, you have one entirely new existence."

"With Sho's mind and personality dominant."

"Via the control medal which connects the two on the mental level. We've both seen that the Guyver possesses some form of self-will, which is in evidence primarily when Sho is incapacitated. That would explain what I saw when the Lunataks had WilyKat and I as captives, and why Sho gets so much larger in his transformed state. Oh, if only Sho could remember _more_!"

"Since he cannot, then that avenue of exploration is closed to us at present."

"I know..."

"Pumyra," Siberias said, his voice in full teacher mode, "don't think on this overmuch."

"But..."

"No. Pumyra, you have far more responsibilities now. You have a son to think about."

"I know this will be slow work, but I can handle..."

"Listen to your elders, Pumyra, they often know what they're talking about." Siberias took a sip of coffee before continuing. "Have I ever told you about Korvis?"

"No."

"Korvis was one of my peers in med school," Siberias explained. "Top of his class, athlete, and general overachiever. Always had to be at the top, that one. It was he who showed me what having too much on one's plate could bring."

"Huh? Shhh... Mama's here," she cooed as Darin began to stir. "Go on, Siberias."

"Since dinnertime is nearing, I'll be brief," he replied with a grin. "On exam day of our graduating year, Korvis walked in looking strangely glassy-eyed. The proctor told us to turn over our papers and begin, and when Korvis did he wrote 'I am a fish' four hundred times, stood up, did a most peculiar burlesque dance and then fainted."

"You can't be serious," Pumyra replied with a skeptical look.

"You give me far too much credit for imagination," Siberias said with a grin. "Korvis cracked hard that day. When he woke, he tried to play it off as though he'd written a treatise on arterial suturing that was too unconventional for the board to accept."

"Asserting that you're a fish strikes me as pretty unconventional," Pumyra agreed, now smiling. "The cheese isn't _that_ close to sliding off my cracker."

"No, and I don't wish otherwise." Darin awoke, all at once as usual, and the two exchanged a glance. "Take my advice, Pumyra. Dedicating yourself to your work is all well and good, but make time for your family as well."

"Thanks." Siberias took his leave before Pumyra looked down at Darin. Bengali's mane, black stripes, and nose where the telling points of the child's father, his skin and hair coloring of her. Darin was crying noisily, and Pumyra's heart melted once again as she slid an arm out of the tunic and pulled the right side down for her son to nurse. Pumyra leaned back against the sofa as he fed, wondering if her own mother felt this way when she had been a cub at her breast.

_Probably,_ she thought, _but without the puzzle of the Guyver to mull over._ Pumyra thought on it as Darin got his supper, holding him gently to her breast. The concept of two beings actually merging into one was mindblowing. What race created the Guyver creature? Sho had said that it was not native to this planet, yet had known nothing more. In two weeks, she and Siberias would embark on their first experiment with the G-cells. It was clear that only practical experimentation would shed any light on their functional nature.

"That's right, sweetheart, get your fill," she cooed as Darin nursed. On the other side of things, being a mother was rewarding all on its own. Pumyra knew her mentor was right, that she shouldn't let her work cut too deeply into her family time. But, where was the balance? Where was the happy medium between Pumyra the healer, Pumyra the scientist, Pumyra the mother, and Pumyra the woman? Snarf was a fine babysitter, and Bengali adored their son, but she had to be in Darin's life as well.

_Mom,_ she thought, _I really wish you were here now._

Tygra stood before Lion-O, who was seated on the throne as a proper king, as the latter reviewed the footage of the megasmasher experiment on the data padd in his hand. The crack Sho had made came and went without him so much as batting an eye, for which Tygra was deeply grateful.

"So, what does Panthro think?"

"We're still going over the data," Tygra explained. "As for how the bio-booster armor can up-step human bio-energy into that beam is, at present, beyond us. I hate to put it so bluntly, but we've never even imagined an organic particle beam, much less encountered one before Sho."

"Developing a mechanical equivalent seems daunting to say the least."

"It is, however we have arranged for scans of Sho's other weapons. The sonic weapons, Panthro thinks, can be copied with only one or two scans of the real thing."

"High-frequency swords for the Royal Guard," Lion-O mused. Panthro himself had put forth the suggestion that a Royal Guard be formed. The ThunderCats still had enemies on Third Earth, though none as equipped as the Lunattaks, or savage as the Mutants. As for Mumm-Ra, who could say? "I just hope they don't cut their own heads off using those things."

"Rebuilding our society will be a gradual process. Speaking of, about the transmitter Panthro and I put forth. What are your thoughts?"

"I think it's risky, but what choice do we have? It's not like we have ships that can dart about the cosmos in search of them. Even so, the risk of Plun-Darr learning of Third Earth and our presence here is a daunting one. However, what are the odds?" Lion-O ran a hand down his face. "Anything else?"

"That covers it for now." Lion-O had not asked if he'd made a decision, either. "If there is nothing further, my king?"

"Must you call me that in private?"

"Lion-O, then."

"Thank you, and no." Lion-O leaned back into the cushioned seat of the throne, looking lost in thought. Tygra bowed respectfully before turning about and taking his leave. The door to the Throne Room slid shut behind and, in a fit of pique, Tygra eased back to listen. Silence greeted his ears. With a small grin, Tygra took his leave. Had he remained a few minutes longer, he would have heard Sho's taunt being replayed, and the sound of Lion-O succumbing to a fit of uproarious laughter.

Even without the light empathic abilities endowed by her untrained sixth sense, Cheetara would have known Lion-O was standing behind her. Only they had unrestricted access to the chambers they shared, only one man smelled the way he did.

Their reflection in the mirror atop the chest of drawers didn't hurt, either.

"Don't mind me," he said as he leaned against the doorframe into their bedroom with a crooked grin on his face, "just enjoying the view." Cheetara stood in the white pants she had worn during her sparring match with Sho, yet the shirt remained on the bed.

"How goes sitting on the throne?" she asked lightly, her movements now slow and exaggerated. Their intimate life had, since construction of the colony completed, returned with almost a vengeance. It sometimes felt as if they had starved themselves of each other and were making up for it.

"Reports, more reports, reports on top of reports, you get where I'm going."

"What's troubling you?"

"Everyone's treating me differently. All this 'Your Highness" crap is starting to bug me."

"Well," she began as she took the brush to her hair, "perhaps Claudis' Standing Order One should become Lion-O's Standing Order One."

"Huh?"

"Claudis had a rule, that when not engaged in official business or in front of the civillians, no ThunderCat was to call him by anything other than his name. Your father hated being called by title when it wasn't necessary."

"I hereby decree it," he said with a laugh.

"I'll pass it on, then." Cheetara placed the brush back on the dresser.

"What're you wearing?"

"You don't like it?"

"I love it, but what is it?"

"A training uniform," she said, turning about to face him. "The last time I wore one was as Panthro's student."

"I had no idea he'd trained you."

"It just... never came up." It was even true. After Cougrix had been murdered, and once she had recovered some of herself afterward, she had asked Panthro to train her. The man had been ruthless, relentless as he hammered the basics of armed and unarmed combat into her. Cheetara had thanked him for all the bruises and pain. Each session had made her stronger, both in body and in mind. "I was sparring with Sho today."

"How bad was it?"

"Sho's actually quite skilled," she replied. "Despite his aversion to striking women."

"And you'll be the one to hammer that out of him," Lion-O said as his arms encircled her.

"Over and over."

"Why, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Long story short, I'm the first real friend Sho made on Third Earth on top of being female. If I can get him to go all out against me, then he'll hold absolutely nothing back when Lisker shows up for round two."

"Sho told us he'd changed," he said, holding her tighter against him. The gesture, despite his words, still felt protective. Cheetara snuggled against his rock-hard torso.

"I'll believe it when I see it, and maybe not even then." The nightmare Sho had experienced regarding her and Guyver Two still gave her a shudder. It wasn't just Sho's life on the line in regards to Lisker, it was hers as well.

_Lisker will be a prominent figure in our future,_ she thought. The feeling was just short of a vision, but powerful enough all the same. As for how, when, where, and why she had no clue and as such had said nothing about it.

"I really should shower," she said lamely as he began to nuzzle just above her carotid artery. "I'm covered in sweat."

"So?"

"I mean it," she replied playfully.

"Again, so?"

"The sooner you let me go, the sooner you can join me."

"You drive a hard bargain, love," Lion-O said as he scooped her effortlessly into his arms.

The sun had long set when, tired and deeply satisfied, she lay against him beneath the coverlet on their bed. Cheetara sighed, knowing that for the next two weeks they would have to avoid such lovemaking due to her fertility cycle. The past week, however, had been more than enough to keep her fulfilled.

"Almost forgot," Lion-O said before reaching over to the nighttable and retrieving the data padd he'd walked in with. "I wanted you to see this."

"Is that the data on the megasmasher?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Just watch." On the small screen, Sho stood transformed in the center of a semicircle of sensor arrays.

"Sho," Tygra's tinny voice said, "we need this data to be as complete as possible. Once Pumyra steps away, I want you to open the megasmasher before powering up."

Cheetara's laughter could be heard even in the corridor beyond their chambers.

Earlier that day, the sun well on its way to its zenith and the ThunderCats just wrapping up their experiment in the arid southern deserts, Oswald Lisker chatted idly with two of the guardsmen who were manning the eastern gate to Watershed. The river which turned the waterwheels and ground the grains into flour gurgled excitedly beneath the wooden bridge which spanned its length. The sky was a shade which had been known in the olden days as Carolina blue, a few wispy clouds marring its uniform surface.

Having moved into Watershed proper required getting to know the locals, he had discovered. Though tongues wagged, he had found that his relationship with Maria was of little interest to the people who called the town home. Maria had, in fact, become something of a mascot as the fighters of Watershed were being armed and trained. A good luck charm whose bright smile silently demanded one in return.

As for Natalie, more than a few of the younger men asked about her. Lisker kept telling them if they wanted to get to know her, they should speak to her as he was not her personal assistant.

"Getting closer," he said as the man who trod the road into Watershed grew more distinct. Idle curiosity kept him standing among the two guards, he had never seen any one come into town alone, and something tickled his instincts about it. Several minutes passed as the man drew closer, enough for Lisker to make out details.

The shirt and pants had seen better days, his boots filthy and worn to almost nothing. Black hair hung tangled and matted to his shoulders with a scraggly beard on his chin. Lisker immediately looked at his left hand, which was swathed in a loose bandage whose tattered ends swayed lazily with the movements of the arm.

_No blood,_ he noticed once the bedraggled man reached the gate. _Nothing soaked through it._ The bandage, while rather dirty, lacked any sign of having been used to bind a wound.

"What happened to the hand?" he asked lightly, indicating with a gesture of his head.

"Lissen," he replied, obviously trying to play it cool. The stranger was nervous as hell, and Lisker suddenly had a good idea why. "I jus' wanna pass through."

Lisker moved suddenly, grasping the man's left arm and twisting it into a shoulder lock with one hand about the wrist and the other pressed against his shoulder. The unkempt specimen of humanity shotued in incoherent outrage, bent forward at the waist.

"Take off the bandage," he said to one of the guardsmen. "Well, I'll be dipped in shit." On the trapped left hand was a tattoo of a clutching talon.

"Get offa me, ya sumbitch!"

"Take him to Gil's," Lisker said, handing him to the guardsmen who each held the struggling man by the arms. "Consider your request denied." This last was said coolly and without inflection.

Lisker considered this newest development as the two hauled the unnamed man away.

"Just give me five minutes alone with him," Gil snarled as he stared at the door to his foyer, hands clenching and unclenching. William leaned against the east wall of the coatroom, eyeing his father with uncertainty. "That son of a whore will spill everything. Five minutes."

"Just gimme three," the much larger Benjamin said, cracking his oversized knuckles.

"Keep it down," Lisker said, slightly annoyed. "How is he gonna talk if he's been beaten to death?"

"We'll find a way." The undertone of Gil's voice set Lisker's nerves further on edge.

"Calm. Down. Now." Lisker bit off each word as he grabbed Gil's shoulders and spun the other man to face him. "Think about it, why did he come here?"

"Who cares?" Benjamin replied.

"A spy!" Gil shouted.

"Yeah, and a piss-poor example of one."

"That fuckhead is one of _them_!" Gil roared.

"Will you _shut up?!_" Lisker's shout ceased Gil's raving. "Use your head, man. Why send a lone spy? Why send one when groups of twenty at least have been coming through here? We all know the Clutch isn't that fucking stupid!"

"Then explain why that creature is currently tethered to a chair in my own home?" Gil's voice had changed radically, going from blazing anger to icy calm instantly.

"Why don't we have him do that for us?" Lisker moved past Gil and threw the door into the foyer open. The man of the hour sat in one of the kitchen chairs which had been brought into the spacious living area, secured with enough rope to ensure that escape would not happen any time in the forseeable future. A pair of near-black eyes glared daggers at them above a flattened nose, the cloth bisecting his mouth preventing any more outraged cries for release. Lisker walked over to the bound man slowly, keeping his face neutral. A lack of expression, he knew, could prove far more disturbing than a face which betrayed emotion as though the man before him were simply a thing whose fate was of little concern to him.

"It's been awhile since your friends last paid Watershed a visit," he said idly before hooking the other kitchen chair with his foot and swinging it about. Lisker sat in it backward, his movements languid. "Makes me wonder why only one would be sent here. I mean, I'd like to think the Clutch would give a better cover story for a spy. What you came here with was thin as a bedsheet." The man tried to get a reply past the gag, struggling emphatically against his bonds. "So, you're telling me you're _not_ a spy?" Frantic nodding was his reply. "I didn't think so, not with that kind of shitty cover. Let me guess... I got it! You're a deserter." More nodding, the chair almost shaking as his body worked against the rope.

"My ass he is," Gil snarled.

"You'll have to forgive my two friends," Lisker said, jerking his head back to Gil and Benjamin. "Last time your former colleagues came calling, they got up to some mischief. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."

"Mmmblphmmm!"

"You don't? Well, why don't I enlighten you. Some of your buddies started choking off this town, and thought that kidnapping the mayor's son would be good for a goof."

"MMMMMMMM!" The man's head shook from side to side in vehement denial.

"You didn't have anything to do with that?"

"NM-HMM!"

"Well, tell us your story, then." Lisker reached over and pulled the cloth from the other's mouth.

"You gonna cut me loose?"

"If I don't find your story to be satisfactory, I won't lift a finger to keep them from pounding the fuck out of you. Start talking."

"I got pretty hacked off with 'em, doin' what they were an' all. I thought joinin' up would be a step up in the world, somthin' of a lark, yeah?" Lisker remained silent. "Anyway, I heard from the ones who got away from that bug-man what happened, an' I started thinkin' that the Clutch wasn't for me. 'Specially when Rinaldo started gettin' the boys together to come back."

"So, what's taken so long?" Gil said through clenched teeth. "They should have been here by now."

"That's the thing," he continued, "we met a right weird fella 'bout a month ago. Big one, he was, with a metal arm and one right long tooth stickin' outta his mouth." Lisker's saliva dried up at those words.

_Grune's alive,_ he thought.

"Right strong son of a bitch, that one. Took out Rinaldo in no time, an' said that he was in charge. Gave a big speech about conquest, of makin us all kings. Most of the lads bought right into it. Me, I'd had just about enough. I snuck off during picket duty one night, an' here I am."

"Keep going."

"Rinaldo..."

"Your leader?" Gil asked.

"Yeah. Got right pissed when his boys got sent back with tails between the legs. Started talkin' about bringing us all together for one big shot at this place. They was ready, too. All kinds of weapons handed out, orders to kill everthin'. Rinaldo was gonna make an example of this town, before that damn Grune came along."

"Explain," Lisker said simply.

"The cat-man showed up, sayin' about how we was wastin' our efforts. Said somethin' about better pickins south of here. Said we wasn't no longer workin' for Gelroz."

"Who's that?"

"Tabbot, he owns loads of land up north. Needed folks to work it, so he hired us. Had us chokin' off towns, runnin' 'em to ground, and roundin' up the ones who were left."

"Slave labor."

"Yeah. Got 'em all workin' the mines up there, tendin' the fields. The Clutch're a group of mercenaries, yeah? Do the job, get paid, that kinda deal."

"Gil, you got a place to stow this one?" he asked with a look over his shoulder.

"The guard force has a few cages. I'm looking forward to seeing that in one."

"Hey, so ya know it wasn't _me_ who was chokin' yer town!" he replied in outrage. "Wasn't even part a' tha' group!"

"That does not matter," Gil said. "Especially since I don't believe you."

"It's the truth!"

"I hold you just as responsible for abducting my son as I do the rest of that lot."

With the Clutch no longer the knife at Watershed's throat, the war council drags every scrap of information out of the ex-Clutch named Mezzo. Lisker considers making a deep strike in the northern lands in the hopes of liberating those enslaved by the Tabbot Gelroz. The question remains, however, of how Grune came to be in command of the mercenary group, and what his true motives in the southern territories are. Stay tuned for the next episode of Eye of the Storm.

By the way, there's a _very_ blatant reference to Red Dwarf in this chapter. Bonus points to whoever finds it!


	11. Arrival

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode Eleven

Sho, on first having drawn afternoon watch duty, had found it boring to the point of tedium. Eight hours spent sitting in front of the main monitor of Cat's Lair, eyeing the readouts regarding system performance and fuel supply, and staring out at nothing as image after image appeared on the massive viewscreen.

Since his sparring matches with Cheetara had begun, Sho found the watch to be a welcome repite from having the daylights beaten out of him. Over the course of the past two weeks, he had become well weary of being her punching bag, and had finally begun to fight back. The advice she'd given, along with the bruises and - to be honest - emasculation had finally gotten him over his aversion to fighting a woman.

(Don't look at me as a woman, Sho,) she'd said after knocking him to the mat yet again, (nor as your friend. On this mat, I'm your opponent and nothing else.)

Even so, their matches usually ended in either a win for her or a draw between them. Cheetara's fighting style was much different from Panthro's, which was something of a shock given that the latter had trained the former. Sho was used to power, and Cheetara depended on agility and being unpredictable in general. Though it was still rough going, Sho took some satisfaction that he was no longer the only one leaving the mat with bruises. The experience had given him even more respect for his friend than before.

On top of that, once he had finally started landing solid hits, Myrlha had started her own reward program...

_SO!_ he thought with a mild jump, _what's going on in the world today?!_ Unlike the original Cat's Lair, the new Lair's head possessed no servo-mechanisms for movement, however the Cat's Eye sensor arrays coupled with the long-range sensors of the Mutant warships provided plenty of coverage.

All he saw at present were plains and forests. Sho knew the area of North America they now called their own had been mostly flatlands during the time of Second Earth, and that one could walk for kilometers on end without seeing a single tree. On finding that the planet's axis had tilted nearly eight degrees while he'd been in stasis, it had explained forests where there once had been none. Jungles far north of the equator. Freak weather patterns and storms more ferocious than he could ever recall. The only question was how it had happened in the first place, and he didn't want to contemplate that. Sho, irrational as he knew it to be, was afraid that he might have had a hand in it.

_Big surprise,_ he thought, _nothing... What's this?_ The indicators of the arrays which were aimed at points far beyond the thin clouds were currently lit. With interest piqued, he changed the viewscreen to display the images the deep-space sensors developed from the information they gleaned about goings-on in the immediate solar system.

"A ship?" he asked aloud when the selector graphic closed about the speck and enhanced the image. Sho had never seen the like of it, and could see immediately why threat alarms hadn't gone off. It's once-sleek back-swept design bore innumerable dents and scorch marks. It was clearly not moving under its own power, but the data readouts showed its orbit about Mars to be decaying. More information scrolled up the right side of the display, showing minimal power readings and a single biosign, faint and indeterminable.

"Control Center to Depot," Sho said once he activated the comm system.

"Depot here," Panthro's basso voice replied, "what's up, Sho?"

"Long range sensors're picking up a ship caught in Mars' gravity field. Looks like it's orbit's decaying."

"Distress signal?"

"None. Bare minimum power readings, all focused in the ship's aft and one biosign, but sensors can't tell what it is. I'm patching you in."

"Hmm... Damn!"

"What?" he asked, instantly on alert.

"That's a Thunderian ship!"

"Looks pretty small to have come from Thundera to Third Earth."

"It's an S-Class yacht. Old one, too. My father designed that model. Sho, call Tygra and... who else is on general duty?"

"Umm..." Sho accessed the duty roster on a small monitor of the control panel. "Says here WilyKat and Kyranna."

"Have them meet me in the Depot's launch bay on the double!"

"Will do. I'll monitor you from here."

_How did an S-Class yacht make it all the way here?_ Panthro thought as he began the Feliner's pre-clight checks. It shouldn't have been possible, he knew his father's design like the back of his hand. They were made for short and medium range jaunts into the stars. It had to have been launched from a mothership which had met with some disaster or other. It was the only logical explanation.

"You're sure it's a Thunderian ship?" Kyranna asked from one of the rear seats, WilyKat on her left.

"I'm sure, alright," he replied as the engines cycled up. "Sho told me there's one biosign aboard, but he can't tell for sure what it is."

"It's right where the ship's power's been diverted to," Tygra supplied as they all buckled into their harnesses. "Life support, perhaps?"

"We'll find out when we get there."

Several hours had passed since the Feliner had lifted off from New Thundera Colony. The view of space outside the cockpit had returned to normal once the effects of hyperdrive had worn off, and the ship was poised just within the gravity field of the fourth planet in the Sol System. Mars loomed beneath them, with the yacht ship holding a degrading orbit over the red planet.

Panthro eased the ship closer, every sense attenuated to the controls and data readouts. The yacht was low enough into what remained of the planet's atmosphere to make any kind of recovery somewhat dicey. The bio-readings detected aboard were the only reason the Feliner was out this far. Sentimental or no, none of the ThunderCats could stomach leaving one of their own to die.

"In range," Tygra said, "Engage the tractor beam?"

"Low intensity," Panthro replied on checking the sensor readouts. "That thing's fragile enough as it is. Pull it up, but be gentle."

"Craft is emerging from the atmosphere," WilyKat said from his station. "Distance is three hundred meters."

"Additional stress on the hull is within tolerances," Tygra added. "Surprisingly. How did it get this far?"

"Search me," Panthro replied. "Looks like we're close enough for an umbilical. Kat, you're with me. Let's suit up."

The young Wildcat followed him to the rear of the Feliner as Tygra lined up the targeting reticule with the yacht's airlock. The flexible tube which would grant them safe passage aboard snaked down and a positive lock was attained.

"We're still pretty close to the atmosphere," Tygra said into the commlink, "and well within the gravity well of this planet. Whatever you two need to do down there, don't take too long."

"Affirmative," Panthro's voice replied over the comm. "About how long do we have?"

"I can give you an hour. Maybe two, but that'll be stressing the yacht's hull more than it can stand. Ninety minutes, then clear out."

"Understood."

WilyKat, fully dressed in a pressure suit designed for labor in deep space, followed Panthro along the umbilical tube to the yacht. He kept his eyes forward, blocking out the infinite panorama of space as he followed the elder ThunderCat toward the airlock of the derelict ship.

"Holding up back there?"

"Best I can."

"Listen. Agoraphobia's a real bitch out here. Just face front and follow me. Don't look around 'til we're inside."

"Will do." WilyKat kept his gaze firmly on Panthro's back as they neared the corroded door. Panthro tried the outer panel, which suprisingly worked, and keyed in a code which opened it. Air blew into the interior of the ship.

"Negative pressure," Panthro's voice said over their open channel. "No life support at all. What the hell happened here?"

The two eased into the mostly-inoperative ship. Panthro landed on his feet with a thump. WilyKat engaged the mag-plates on his boots and found contact with the deck plating himself.

"Total power failure," he said lamely as they shined their handlamps about the ruined bridge. "All systems offline. What could be receiving power?"

"That's what we're here to find out. These computers are totalled. No way to get data from them."

"That's my assessment," Tygra's voice said over the comm channel. "The data banks are burnt to a crisp. I'm reading only bare minimum functions, and that's the sub-systems."

They wasted no more words, their magnetized boots giving them purchase as they made their way to the rear of the ship. A sealed door barred their progress, with a dim green light above it still active. It grudgingly slid open at their approach to reveal two suspension capsules attached to a central power bank On the far side was a golden chest, sealed tight with the ThunderCat insignia over where the lock should be.

"Oh, shit," Panthro breathed as they clomped around the conglomeration of tubes connecting the pair of suspension capsules. "This is it... To think it survived!"

"What?!"

"The Treasure of Thundera..." Panthro said in a gasp.

"THE Treasure?" Tygra's voice asked. "ALL of it?!"

"All the important parts, looks like," Panthro said, his voice muted.

"Oh, gross..."

Panthro turned to see WilyKat stagger backward clumsily, his face a shade of pale green. To his relief, the younger held down his gorge though refused to look at the suspension capsule a second time. It was enough to tell him what WilyKat had seen, though he still clomped over to the sealed capsule.

The skeleton within wore a plain blue jumpsuit which hung loosely on the exposed bones. Scraps of dessicated flesh still clung to it along with wispy strands of hair. Stasis failure was, in Panthro's opinion, the worst way to shuffle off the mortal coil. Sealed within what was meant to save one's life, only to slowly suffocate as the air was used up.

"Poor bastard," he muttered to the body before maneuvering to look into the capsule which, apparently, still functioned. "BAD way to go."

"What's going on?" Kyranna asked over the comm.

"We have two suspension capsules down here. One failed." Panthro didn't go into detail, he knew it to be unnecessary. "Checking the other one now."

Panthro finally came into position to peer into the circular window near the top...

"SHIT!"

"WHAT?!" three voices exclaimed over the circuit.

"This one's still alive..." Oh, fuck... he thought. How...

"KAT!"

"Yeah?"

"Get that chest back to the Feliner. Tygra, I need you down here."

"The auto-pilot might not..."

"This is more important!" A DAMN sight more...

"On my way. I'll set the auto to detatch and clear out in... fifty minutes."

Panthro did the math. It was good enough.

In the cargo bay of the Feliner, the suspension capsule which remained functional rested in the center of the mostly-empty floorspace. Several cables ran from the ship's power grid into the receiving ports in the rear of the device. Panthro and Tygra, still clad in pressure suits sans helmets, were staring into the viewport of the capsule.

"This is a... complication," Tygra said.

"Complication. What do we tell..."

"One thing at a time. The implications of this..."

"What implications? All of us knew that the chances of this were astronomical!"

"Still... Best get back to Third Earth." Tygra eyed the chest secured onto a shelf along the farthest wall of the cargo bay.

The Treasure of Thundera... he thought distractedly. And...

On the bridge, Panthro and Tygra resumed their seats. The umbilical now detatched, the decrepit wreck began anew its descent into the thin atmosphere of Mars. Panthro activated the Feliner's torpedo bays, arming and targeting a deadly projectile at the derelict ship.

It was a moment of sympathy for the unknown Thunderian whose remains were still entombed aboard the yacht. Panthro simply couldn't stomach the thought of this lifeless, barren world being anyone's final resting place. Better to be scattered among the stars than pulped into loose dirt that nothing had trod for unknown thousands of years.

The torpedo streaked from the open bay and impacted the ship less than a second later. The explosion was swallowed by the infinite vacuum of space, along with the subatomic particles of the unnamed corpse. So far as Panthro was concerned, it was a far kinder fate.

For Tygra, the occupant of the suspension capsule in the cargo bay drew most of his thoughts. The fact that he had survived was incredible, but what ramifications would his return have? Being no expert on the science behind suspended animation, he had no clue as to how the occupant of that capsule was holding up.

First things first...

"Feliner to Cat's Lair."

"Lair responding," Sho's voice replied.

"Tell Pumyra and Siberias to prepare for a suspension capsule. Is Lion-O back yet?

"No, he's still touring the agriculture sectors. Want me to call him back?

"No, Sho, that won't be necessary. Feliner out."

Siberias cast a look at Pumyra as the wheeled gurney rolled in with a sealed suspension capsule atop it. Cables snaked from its underside to the bottom of the gurney, on which rested several power packs. Panthro and Tygra each wore looks of deep concern as they wheeled it into the Medical Wing.

"So, what is all the secrecy about?" he asked as he neared to peer into the capsule. The sight inside caused his stomach to do a somersault.

"WHAT?!" Pumyra exclaimed on beholding its occupant.

"Can you safely revive him?"

"I think so, yes," Pumyra said on checking the medscanner in her hand. "Where did you find him?!"

"Not important," Panthro replied. "Lion-O's not due back for another four hours. Is that long enough?"

"I would say so," Siberias said, his voice calm as usual. "Ninety minutes to shut down the capsule and stabilize him will do."

"Very well. Council will convene in two hours."

"Without Lion-O?" Pumyra asked.

"Damn right," Panthro said.

Council convened that late afternoon, each ThunderCat present buzzing with either curiosity or anxiety. Most notably absent was Lion-O, who was still inspecting the farming sectors of New Thundera Colony.

"So, will he recover?" Tygra asked.

"I believe he will," Pumyra said. "The patient is resting comfortably now. I expect he'll regain consciousness in another ten hours."

"So, ThunderCats, how do we deal with this?"

"What's there to deal with?" WilyKit asked. "I'm glad he's okay..."

"Kitten," Cheetara said, her face showing her conflicting emotions, "This could throw everything we've built here into chaos."

"Why?" her brother replied. "Lion-O's king, now."

"Not according to whom we've just found," Tygra said solemnly.

"So?" Cheetara said. "All of us knew what would likely happen back then. There was no foul play in his ascending the throne!"

"Seconded," Panthro added. "If anyone's guilty of anything, it's all of us for making a perfectly logical assumption."

"That doesn't change the fact that the leadership of New Thundera Colony is now in question," Tygra said forcefully. "The law cannot be denied."

"I think the bigger question is," Cheetara began, "is how we tell Lion-O that the father he barely knew is still alive?"

What, indeed, will happen once Lion-O finds out that Claudis is still among the living, and still has a legitimate claim to the throne of New Thundera Colony? Also, what of Ratar-O's forces, and the monster named Aptom who makes himself an unknown and prominent presence amongst his Mutant troops? What is Aptom's true aim? Will his former allegiance with Guyver One affect it? All this in more in the next episode of Eye of the Storm!

Author's note: During my most recent hiatus, I've learned of a website which offers translated scans of the Guyver manga which reach well beyond what the Viz release and the 2005 anime brought these shores. is the place to go, where Guyver is continued from chapter 67 onward to 180. I am reading these myself, and have been forced to change the direction of this fic accordingly. Also, the gap between the 2005 anime & Chapter 67 of the manga is pretty short, & easily explained. For any Guyver fans reading this who want to know what happens next, is the place to go. Enjoy!


	12. Long Live the King

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode Twelve

Cheetara stood in wait for him in the foyer of Cat's Lair, hiding her anxiety as best she was able. Given that, due to the gifts of her lineage, emotional control had been drilled into her since cubhood, she still found it difficult at times. A passionate woman at heart, she allowed herself to express feelings primarily in battle or during the rare moments when she found herself forced to bow to the absurd. Only a handful of people ever saw her at her most vulnerable, her core exposed to those select few, and of them only two had ever seen the aspect of her which was governed by fierce desire.

The other ThunderCats were still in Council and still near panic-mode over the arrival of Claudis the former, or current depending on how one approached the issue, king of New Thundera Colony. On learning of Lion-O's imminent return from his inspection of the farming habitats, she had excused herself from deliberation to await him. The news of his father's survival was sure to be a severe shock, issues of kingship notwithstanding, and she would brook no one else breaking the news to him. Cheetara owed the man she loved that much.

"Are you _insane?!_" Panthro exclaimed when Tygra finished. "An inquest? Over what, all of us thinking that Claudis wouldn't survive Thundera's destruction?!"

"Lord Claudis," Tygra began patiently, "remained behind to help navigate our ship off-world after the Mutants had sabotaged the guidance protocols in our orbital traffic systems..."

"Willingly, I might add."

"True, but he never officially ceeded the throne to his son. Or to Jaga."

"Maybe because he thought he wouldn't get off-world in time?" WilyKit asked.

"That doesn't change the fact that he did, and now leadership of the colony is in question. We cannot abandon our laws on succession of the throne. They've proven vital to keeping Thundera united since the Great Unification." In which, according to history, nearly all the clans of Thundera chose to unite under a single banner for the prosperity of Thunderiankind as a whole. "Though we've parted ways with some of our ancient traditions in the name of survival in a hostile alien environment, no exceptions can be made here."

"Look," Bengali said, "I wasn't born into the Nobility. In fact, the only person I know who would've been brought in on the homeworld is Pumyra once her professional star rose high enough. So, I'm none too familiar with the ins and outs of succession. What if Lord Claudis ceedes the throne?"

"What if he decides to keep it?" Tygra asked in return.

"Well, we won't know one way or the other until he wakes up," Panthro replied. "Until then, we're just chasing out tails."

Kyranna checked the med-scanner's results for what felt like the thousandth time as Claudis slept peacefully beneath the sheet, his chest rising and falling in a comforting rhythm. For having spent so long in a suspension capsule, the man was bouncing back exceptionally well.

Having been born from a family of farmers, matters of the Nobility such as succession to the throne had always held little meaning for her. Even now, wearing the proud symbol of a ThunderCat, she still found little interest in the debate likely still raging in council. Having taken her leave to keep the watch on this Most Valuable Patient (a little joke she kept to herself) had been a relief from matters which she found no concern in. As her father had always said, things had a way of working themselves out.

The door to the Medical Wing slid open to reveal Lion-O, crown and cape in evidence, striding in and freezing at the sight of his father. Kyranna looked away from his stunned countenance and, out of respect, suddenly found other things to interest her that were nowhere near the Medical Wing. Cheetara, on the way out, shot her a grateful look.

Lion-O's mouth felt as if the Desert of Sinking Sands had decided to open a branch office inside it, complete with sand. Words failed him at the sight of the one man whose shoes he had been tasked to fill lying in the Medical Wing after so many years of being mainly a figment of memory and imagination. Having seen little enough of him during his brief formative years on Thundera, and having mainly stories during his hurried maturation on Third Earth, Claudis had always been something of a myth to him, a man more legend than reality. Cheetara's hand appeared on his shoulder, and he turned to stare into her soulful eyes to find only love and encouragement within them.

"When..." he asked lamely.

"Just a few hours ago. Both Pumyra and Siberias expect him to make a full recovery."

"Where are the others? Why aren't they here?"

"Later for that. I wanted you to see him, and have time to adjust to his being here before he awakens."

"Father..." Lion-O's eyes suddenly found a hidden source of moisture as they stung with tears. Suddenly weak in the knees, he leaned against Cheetara as he kept staring at the sleeping form of Claudis as though looking away would grant him a chance to disappear. Thoughts raced in his mind, memories of nights lying awake and wondering if this man would be proud of the son he rarely saw.

"Take your time," Cheetara said gently. "There's no rush."

"I... I can hardly believe it..."

"That's true for everyone."

"When will he wake up?" It was a somewhat childish question, but all he could think to ask with his thoughts in such sudden disarray.

"Sometime tomorrow, so I'm told," she replied. "I didn't want to shock you like this, but I felt it far better for you to see for yourself." The issues concerning succession to the throne, for her, were not as important as Lion-O adjusting to his father being alive and back in his life.

_Back?_ she thought. _More like in his life for the first time. Not that it was either's fault._

"Come," she said, taking his arm and steering him away, "there's much to talk about."

"I honestly don't know how," he said lamely, "I just don't have words for what I'm feeling right now."

The walk to their quarters was quiet. Cheetara knew all too well the brooding look on his face, yet said nothing to dispel it. Words were often woefully inadequate when it came to expressing emotion and, for anyone with a hint of psionic talent, that was doubly true. The maelstrom of emotions washed against her subconscious, a presence she fought to ignore as she projected serenity and calm as best she was able.

Tygra sat alone in his chambers, the neat orderliness of his personal space a mocking irony to the sudden disarray of today's events. Council's debate had ended, predicatbly, with a wait and see vote. Lion-O, by now, had to know about the return of Claudis if not the implications to his reign it represented and his quarters were currently sealed. Cheetara was with him, and he knew she would do all in her power to help him adjust and break the news of this challenge to his kingship.

_I'd almost prefer Mutants to this..._ he thought as he poured a small tumbler of amber bourbon. It was a rare day, indeed, when Tygra took a drink. This bottle, given as a gift from a local village of Wollos, had yet to be opened since construction began. The liquor burned pleasantly on its way down his throat and the sharp edges dulled somewhat. Having decided against a second, Tygra resealed the bottle and settled into a stuffed armchair in hopes of relaxing a little.

Even if only to himself, he had to admit that suggesting an inquest had been slightly foolish given the circumstances. Of course they had all known Claudis' decision to stay and guide them starward would have likely ended in his being killed. Of course they all took that as a de-facto step down from the throne, presumably to Jaga. Then Jaga spending the remainder of his life steering them to Third Earth had meant the throne had been passed to the proper heir, Lion-O. No assassination attempts, no plotting, just a series of events which led to the son of Claudis taking his seemingly rightful place. Even the most perfectly logical assumption could be the wrong one, for that was the nature OF an assumption.

_May you live in interesting times,_ Tygra thought, _no wonder that's considered a curse._ A second drink was sounding more and more like a good idea.

Awakening to darkness was something he had grown accustomed to since the loss of his sight. Claudis kept his breathing controlled as he used his ears and nostrils to determine the contents of the space about him. The disorientation of emerging from suspension righted itself in short order, his mind commanding itself to clear and focus. The body, however, had its own protocols and he had little choice but to let it reboot on its own.

_Beeping,_ he thought. _Machinery of some sort. A hospital?_ The scent of antiseptics and stringent cleaning agents reinforced the notion. Other scents lay beneath, men and women. Thunderians.

_My people. I finally found them..._ No scent corresponded to Nello, the engineer who had accompanied him aboard the royal yacht. Was he elsewhere? Had he survived?

Claudis had blessed his sightlessnes as Nello had relayed the sensor readings to him. The wreckage of their ships which had actually made it into space only to be ambushed by Mutants who had actually been working together sending creeping horrors up his spine. Then, an ion trail from the flagship... The knowledge that his son was still alive had tempered the loss of so many of his people somewhat. Then, Nello had informed them that the yacht on which they had made their escape could not possibly reach their destination planet, and the flagship had embarked on a course not plotted by their plans for evacuating their people. For Claudis, it was a choice of the lesser of two evils. Continue after those of his kind who had escaped Mutant ambush and have no chance of seeing them, or follow the flagship to the only habitable planet that was within its range damaged as it was. It had been Nello's idea to rig the suspension capsules into the main power grid, engage the engines at full burn until maximum speed had been reached, then power all systems into the capsules, navigation shields, and guidance. Even then, their odds of success had been far short of optimum.

No sounds of breathing, no movement, everything suggested he was alone in whatever space this was. Then, a most familiar presence made itself known.

"It would appear my desperate gambit paid off," he said, his voice rough and cracked.

"Indeed it did, old friend," Jaga said from his right. Claudis turned to face him, knowing it would do no good but doing so out of ingrained habit. Still no breathing to be heard.

"I take it you visit me from the Astral Plane?"

"I do."

"So..." _Damn... It happened _THAT _way..._ "My son?"

"Lion-O currently reigns as king. Things have taken a definite twist from our original aims."

"In short, you tampered with his suspension capsule."

"As you ordered."

"Damnation... It was only supposed to be a contingency plan..."

"Nevertheless, it became necessary. Even if I had survived the journey, I would have been an invalid. The ThunderCats could not have had a doddering old man or a kitten in command."

"Does he reign well?"

"Very well, of late. I have had to advise him less and less over the three years of our residence on this Third Earth."

"Does he know?"

"No."

"How can I face him," Claudis began, "when I was never there?"

"Fate is what stripped him of a father and abbreviated his childhood. While you cannot turn back time, you can at least be a positive force in his life. As for telling him the truth behind his aging in stasis, some doors are best left unopened. In time, he will be able to handle the truth but not now."

"Thank you, old friend, for guiding him so far."

"Much of it he did on his own. Lion-O is a remarkable young man. As for how things stand in New Thundera Colony, perhaps it would be best to let the ThunderCats bring you up to speed."

"Jaga, it wasn't your fault, if that's what keeps you bound to the mortal coil."

"There is no way to ascertain that, now."

"Jaga," Claudis began, becoming annoyed at the weight Jaga seemed to keep chained about his neck, "I don't know the ins and outs of sorcery, but I highly doubt you were the one responsible for Thundera's destruction."

"I was the one who tossed the Sword of Plun-Darr into the deepest volcanic chasm on our world."

"Whereupon it made its way into Thundera's core and proceeded to drain the heat energy from it until our planet was crushed by its own gravity? Forgive me for finding that a little hard to take as truth."

"Be that as it may," Jaga said, "I shall remain until Lion-O no longer needs me. Then, and only then, will my work be done."

"Jaga, you're a good man. I don't care what Panthro says about you." Claudis smirked and let out a small chuckle which Jaga responded to in kind. "A shame we can't toast each other with a mug of good firewine."

"Indeed it is. Rest well, Claudis. It is good to see you again."

Jaga, however, did not return to the Astral Plane. Rather, he soon found himself in the comfortably-lit sanctum of Mumm-Rana, the White Pyramid. Tasked as Mumm-Ra's antithesis, she represented goodness and light, things that were anathema to the demonic mage. Torchlight filled the dust-free space as Mumm-Rana herself stood before her sarcophagus, lovingly caressing the head of a stone lynx which rested beside it.

"Thank you," she began, for fetching her from the other world." From behind one of the massive statues of her masters, a woman with creamy white skin and a mane of white-on-violet hair emerged. The egyptian skirt stopped well shy of her knees and golden sandals here affixed to her feet with straps wound up to her shins. Jagara herself, one of the most powerful sorceresses in Thundera's history, stood alive once more. "I could do the same for you as I have for her."

"Thank you, but no," Jaga replied. "I still must question the wisdom of what you intend to do. Meddling with time can have disastrous consequences."

"Nevertheless," Jagara replied, "it is necessary. To stand against the coming darkness, Sho Fukamachi must unlock his full power. The only way to do so is to force his hand."

"The only way to do that," Mumm-Rana added, "is for him to face an opponent which cannot be defeated by the Guyver alone. Within the protective walls of my pyramid, we shall be safe from the effect on the timestream."

"If you feel this to be best, then I shall not interfere." Jaga knew what she was referring to, having beheld the unsealed prohpecy regarding Sho's appearance on Third Earth, and what it meant to the ThunderCats and people of New Thundera Colony. It had even spurred him to agree to her request to retrieve the soul of Jagara, so she could provide her a body once more. And, on having viewed the power Mumm-Rana mentioned in jagged scenes from Second Earth, he knew one thing above all. They would need that power. Soon.

What is Mumm-Rana's plan to unlock Sho's power? What force could she mean that could not be defeated by the Guyver alone? And what of Claudis? How will his return affect New Thundera Colony? Stay tuned for the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	13. A King's Reasons

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode Thirteen

Jagara and Mumm-Rana stood at opposite ends of the scrying pool with their hands outstretched and mystic energies flowing into the liquid. Both women ended their incantations at precisely the same moment, and the waters in the cauldron were a nearly offensive violet. Mumm-Rana and Jagara stepped back, evidently pleased with their work, before addressing each other.

"This must be done," Jagara said, her face as solemn as her voice.

"To think," Mumm-Rana said at length, "at first I wanted to kill him. Now, I'm tyring to help him unlock more of his power. Existence can be a strange thing, can it not?"

"Given that I once more walk with mortals and am wearing attire far more abbreviated than I am accustomed to, I am inclined to agree." Jagara grinned a little at her jest. Mumm-Rana had been surprised to find that one of her wisdom and power could be somewhat lighthearted.

"Well, you did not complain when you awoke."

"I never said I did not like it. It is... liberating, I suppose. The spell should be ready soon. Should you not rest?"

"I have fully recovered after my last encounter with Sho. At the very least, I am glad my counterpart has not."

"I saw that battle. It was impressive to say the least." Jagara had availed herself of Mumm-Rana's cauldron in the two months since being restored to life in order to be fully abreast of all that had occurred concerning the ThunderCats and Sho. The Thunderian sorceress had been awestruck at the devastative might of the Guyver. Especially without Sho at the helm. "Out of control. I can see why they called it that. Absolutely merciless in how it dealt with the Lunattaks and Mumm-Ra."

"When shall we employ the spell?"

"Soon, but not now. Let them adjust to the latest development before we throw a rude surprise their way."

"A strange way to phrase it."

"But an apt one."

Seeing Claudis in such good health bolstered Tygra's spirits immensely. Already he was sitting upright in the contoured bed with the sheet pooled around his waist. The man was still barrel-chested as he had been in his prime, yet the muscles of his arms and torso had slackened with age and so much time in stasis. Given a week or so to rest, Claudis looked as if he might just retake his place on the throne.

"I'll speak with Lion-O about that," Claudis had replied when Tyrgra made a tentative attempt to broach the subject. The calm tone of his voice, strangely, did little to assuage Tygra's own worries. At present, however, his sightless eyes were goggling and his jaw hanging slack. Tygra had just finished his overview of events of the past few years. Most particularly, the Mutant Army and their utter immolation.

"This boy..." he began, then paused to collect his thoughts. "This Sho... did all THAT?!"

"It sounds fantastic, I know, but it's all true. Sho is a large part of the reason New Thundera Colony exists."

"Such power... And you say he follows the Code of Thundera?"

"To the best of his ability. Of course, he was only just introduced to it rather than having it ingrained into him all his life." All in all, Sho did quite well with the Code. The ins and outs of Thunderian law were still something of a mystery to the human, but so long as he kept the Code close to his heart, all was well. Sho, Tygra well knew, wasn't the type to abuse the power he had yet the fact that he accepted Thunderian laws and ways let him sleep a little better at night.

"This other human... I forget his name. I apologise, but my time in stasis has left my memory somewhat addled."

"Lisker," Tygra replied, "is still out there. Though he hasn't caused us any trouble, and Sho believes he may have changed in some ways, he is still considered a threat."

"From what you've told me, my son has indeed chosen a worhty new Vanguard of Thundera. Has it gone to his head?"

"Not at all."

"Sho sounds like a remarkable young man. I would like to meet him."

"I will arrange it straightaway..."

"Oh, no rush. So, Tygra, tell me. How is Lion-O?"

"As king..."

"From what you just told me, he has done well in that regard. I mean, how IS he?"

"Oh. Do you mean..."

"Let me be more specific. Has he chosen a wife yet?"

Tygra hesitated. This was a topic he'd been hoping to save for later.

"Well, yes, there is a woman in his life."

"Good. So, don't keep me in suspense. Who is it?"

"Belive it or not... Please understand, many things have..."

"Out with it. A local?"

"Cheetara." Claudis' reaction was nothing like what he had been expecting. A warm smile creased his lined face, genuinely happy over the news. Even though his eyes were blind, Tygra still resisted scratching his head in confusion in front of him.

"I can feel your befuddled expression from here," Claudis teased. Tygra had forgotten how casual he could be in private conversation. "I take it you thought I would disapprove."

"Well, yes, actually."

"The circumstances are indeed unusual, but I know she always cared for him very much. Granted, I never thought they'd share an intimate relationship, but I know her quite well. Cheetara would never have given herself to Lion-O if she didn't think him deserving. Or ready. If she loves him, that's enough for me. Besides, are they not both adults now?"

"Well... yes, they are."

"Perhaps it's fortunate that his suspension capsule malfunctioned. If anyone can help Lion-O steer through the challenges of adulthood and kingship, it's her. I have no worries."

"Is... there anything futher?"

"No. In fact, I find myself rather hungry."

"I'll have a meal sent to you at once."

"Thank you, Tygra."

Tygra made his way out of the Medical Wing, feeling more puzzled than anything else. Claudis' attitude had been remarkably relaxed, especially regarding Lion-O's relationship with Cheetara. Deep within, Tygra asked himself why he was so happy about it, and why he had not been terribly surprised when told that his son's suspension capsule had malfunctioned.

Another thought occured to him, one he had kept filed away as unexplainable. Exactly WHY had Lion-O not only aged, yet had been physically powerful on emerging from his capsule? It was the one thing his limited knowledge, and Pumyra's rather more advanced knowledge, of medical science had yet to explain. At most, he should have aged a year or so. Jaga's having foregone suspension entirely explained his death, yet something still had not added up. Tygra felt himself closer to an answer than before, yet faced with even more questions.

Claudis, once he'd heard the door slide shut, faced forward and allowed the smile he had kept hidden to show. Cheetara and Lion-O. Never would he have thought of that. While waiting on his food, he allowed himself to consider how his son would have turned out had Thundera not been destroyed. Would he have chosen a woman of the Nobility? A civillian? Unwed kings had been known to fall for the average citizen from time to time, able to marry above any concerns of the ThunderCats by royal fiat alone. Arranged marriages had fallen to the wayside decades before he himself had acsended the throne, and that had been no small amount of years ago. At least his son had found love earlier in his life than Claudis had.

Even moreso than his regrets over having never been there for his son, Claudis held more for what had become ultimately necessary. The entire plan had been conceived in desperation, a counter-measure against the worst possible outcome for the Nobility. That they had been unable to arrive at the rendevouz point with the other convoys had been a possibility, hence other high-ranking ThunderCats having been sent with them to act as a new government should the Nobility be slain. Even so...

_Even so..._ he thought. Lion-O had been robbed of nearly a third of his life by the hand of his own father. The process itself had been untested, with no guarantee it would work. Claudis had played dice with the life of his son. The fact that he'd won did little to temper the act itself. Jaga's advice to be a positive force in his life after such a thing seemed hollow, even asinine in the face of that. The worst of it was, however, that Claudis knew he had still more strings to pull in regards to Lion-O's destiny. In order to properly guide his son through the perils of kingship, he had to be more of a manipulator than a father.

_To be my own child's king-maker,_ Claudis thought as he lay down once again. An ancient proverb came to him, of the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few.

"Or the one," he finished in a hushed whisper.

Siberias' quarters were sparse on decorations, unless one could count stacks of datapads and tomes of research stacked in a strange form of orderly chaos as decor. The elder Tyger seemed to feed on knowledge, a fact which Tygra found admirable. The questions which had arisen anew after his conversation with Claudis had nagged at him harder than ever in the hours since they'd spoken. Tygra kept trying to tell himself that they were unimportant next to the question of who the king of New Thundera Colony truly was, and kept coming away dissatisfied. The simple truth was that he had to know.

"How much do you know about suspension capsules?" It was uncharacteristically direct and indelicate, but he felt it best to get straight to the point.

"I don't suppose this concerns our newly-awakened monarch." Siberias eyed him evenly over the cup of tea which had paused at his lips.

"Claudis spent so long in stasis, I'm worried about any lingering after-effects." It was almost true.

"Well," the elder began after taking a sip, "there is that. The very point of the suspension capsules was to extend the lives of the occupants. The gas pumped into the closed environment was intended to slow all bodily functions to a crawl. Metabolism, cellular mytosis, cardiac and pulmonary rhythms, everything. Even higher brain functions."

"I'm interested in what could possibly cause the systems to fail."

"Any number of things. The systems had numerous redundancies, but nothing is ever perfect. However, before our homeworld was lost, failures had bottomed out at merely three percent. Lord Claudis, so far, is showing no signs of suspension failure." Being alive was proof enough of that.

"While in stasis on our journey here," Tygra began after sipping from his own cup, "Lion-O experienced what I can only describe as partial suspension failure." Silence thickened between them as the golden sunlight fell on Siberias' stacks of books along the western wall of his chambers.

"There is no such thing as partial failure when it comes to stasis," Siberias replied in an even teacher's voice.

"All of us, excepting Jaga, entered the suspension capsules for the trek to Third Earth. All of us, excepting Lion-O, emerged with only marginal age progression. Not only was he fully grown, having passed through puberty and adolecence, he was in excellent physical condition. As if only his mind had slowed and his body kept on."

"What you're describing is patently impossible. When I said there was no such thing as partial failure, I meant that even partial failure translated into catastrophic failure."

"Oh?"

"If what you say is true, then our king would have been little more than a vegetable. Lion-O's muscles would have atrophied, his heart would have been weakened, the liver would probably be only barely functional, body chemistry a train wreck, and that only if he lived at all." Siberias closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. "Recovery would have been impossible. If he'd suffered partial suspension failure, it would have been enough to count as total failure. Lion-O should have only lived a few hours on emerging. If that long."

"Nevertheless, that's indeed what happened."

"Then he either experienced a chain of scientific coincidences and impossibilities tantamount to a genuine miracle or..." Siberias gasped as the obvious conclusion occured to him.

"Which is why I need to know."

"This is... unsettling. Still, I don't see how it could have been done. Much of the original work on it was highly classified, but there is one rumor I came across."

"And that is?"

"I had heard, and I do not know how true this is, that the technology had been stolen from Plun-Darr."

Tygra sat still, shocked into silence. Plun-Darr and Thundera stealing technological secrets from each other was hardly news, espionage being a distasteful yet necessary affair for nations and worlds since the dawn of history, but something to preserve life having been developed by Mutants? Mutant science focused primarily on faster ships and faster forms of murder.

"Well, they obviously wrote it off as a lost cause," Tygra said more to fill the silence than to continue the conversation. Having learned more, he found himself faced with an impossible solution. Lion-O's suspension capsule had been tampered with. This in turn required someone with intimate knowledge of not only the systems, but the basic science behind the process. Also, this someone had to have access to the suspension capsules on board the royal flagship. Lastly, this notional someone had to have had... Claudis' blessing.

It was insane, he thought as he thanked Siberias and took his leave. There was no way Claudis could have had the knowedge to do such a thing... but that was what scientists were for. None of them necessarily had to know why they were experimenting on different uses of the capsules, all they needed was royal writ. As for tampering with the capsule itself, the suspect pool was pitifully small. Panthro possibly had the expertise, but even he would balk at such a concept. That left only one.

Tygra made his way to the Medical Wing on autopilot. This needed to be straightened out, and now.

Claudis knew it was Tygra before the other even spoke. The strange meatfruit grown locally was being digested along with the unnamed vegetables and the bread which could have been baked on Thundera, the taste was so familiar.

"What's the trouble?" he asked casually, hiding his growing unease with the skill of years of practice in statecraft.

"M'lord," Tygra began, and he could read volumes in the other's unsteady voice, "we must speak."

"Given that you have dismissed Kyranna and Pumyra is currently occupied in her laboratory, I'd say this is to remain between us. This concerns Lion-O, does it not?"

"I believe Lion-O's suspension capsule..."

"Was tampered with? I know." Claudis steeled himself on hearing the other's shocked gasp. Tygra, ever curious, had pieced together enough to determine what had happened at last, and had come to confront him. Another skill he had learned as king was how to wrong-foot others, and he needed to take control of this conversation quickly.

"Then..."

"I ordered it, yes. Sit down, Tygra."

"I..."

"Sit down. Now." Claudis let a little of the royal authority slip into his voice and was rewarded with the sound of Tygra sliding a chair next to the bed and taking a seat. "It was never supposed to happen, but contingency plans are made in the event they're actually needed. Just before Thundera was destroyed, while I was guiding all of you off-world, I was confronted by Slythe."

"I fail to see how..."

"Do not interrupt me. While planning the evacuation, we knew that keeping it a secret would be impossible. Plun-Darr High Command learned of it in record time, yet did nothing to harrass us."

"Why commit their resources toward killing us all when our own planet was going to do it for them?" Tygra said, repeating Royal Intelligence's take on the state of Mutant inactivity at the time. "I know all that."

"What you did not know, what was kept between Jaga and myself was that we were selecting an alternate destination. The captains of the ships would, on reaching the rendevouz point, receive another set of coordinates for our destination. This measure was taken in the hope that Plun-Darr would not learn of it until we had re-established our society and were able to defend ourselves again." The vertebrea in his spine popped loudly as he stretched his back. "On finding that orbital navigation satellites had been sabotaged just before the last of us were to leave, I remained behind to guide you."

"And the Mutants were waiting. Now that I think on it, it was rather a small force." Claudis heard the growing horror in his voice clearly.

"Slythe was operating with the permission of Mutant High Command, but not toward the goal he'd outlined. Slythe's stated intent was to recover plans for the new Warbot which our intelligence had stolen, but his true aim was to delay the departure of the flagship as long as possible With the rest of the convoy out of range, his force would face far less resistance when he tried to seize the Eye of Thundera. Which attempt failed spectacularly, you told me." Claudis grinned into the deepening silence between them. "Third Earth had already been selected as an alternate should we find ourselves unable to reach our chosen world."

"Are you telling me that... that stealing some of his life was necessary? That taking such a tremendous risk..."

"Not so large a risk as you might think. I know how intelligent you are, especially since you put things together so quickly, but here are some things you do not know. Suspension capsule technology was..."

"Stolen from the Mutants." Claudis couldn't miss the accusatory tone of Tygra's words. Well, he told himself, if he was to know it was best he know it all.

"True, but not in its current state. The technology had been originally designed to accelerate the maturation of new soldiers, along with increasing their physical capabilities. This was, of course, a disaster. Each subject emerged with various physical and mental abnormalities, the ones who survived at least. Most died during the process, and it was not an easy passing. When R.I. brought the plans for this system to us, my Chief Engineer noted how the systems could be put to the opposite use. As such, suspension capsules had been developed and installed on all deep space-worthy ships. It was an acceptable alternative to dumping massive amounts of funding in the failing FTL drive program. As it turns out, that decision has possibly saved thousands of Thunderian lives."

"And stolen some from your own son!"

"I cannot deny that, nor can I claim that the decision had been easily reached. I can't imagine how Jaga had to have tormented himself as he piloted your ship, knowing that his last act in life was to defy not only the Code but nature itself."

"Was that planned, too?"

"A contingency, I told you!" Claudis exclaimed, growing angry. "I had to plan for as close to everything as I could, and that meant not revealing everything to my advisors! Neither I nor Jaga had any desire to implement it, but Slythe made it necessary. I am not trying to deflect any blame, but I AM trying to explain how this became necessary!" Claudis paused briefly, reigning in his growing anger.

"On calculating the distance between Thundera and this planet, we both knew that if it came down to it, Jaga would not survive the trip. Lion-O would need all of you in your prime, and all of you would need a leader who wasn't either a kitten or too old for the responsibilities!" Claudis stopped for a moment before continuing, fighting not to unleash his temper. Tygra didn't deserve it. "Face it, if Jaga hadn't followed my order, the Mutants would have subdued you and all the native peoples of this Third Earth."

"I... cannot argue that point."

"Exactly. What I did was for not only the ThunderCats, but for all my people. Once our countrymen scattered among the stars learn that Thundera's heart and soul still live, the ThunderCats will be the light which draws them together again."

"Even so," Tygra replied, "I can't find any real justification for what you and Jaga did."

"Speaking as a man, neither can I. However, I was also king. A king, or one worth the veneer on his throne, has to put his people above all else, his own blood included."

"By that, you mean you intend to ceede the throne?"

"Haven't I taken enough from him already? On a related topic, Cheetara left not long before you arrived and she told me about Lion-O's offer."

"Are you saying I shouldn't take it?"

"The Lord of the ThunderCats, laws of succession aside, must be the king's most trusted advisor. Can you stand at his side, knowing what you know now and knowing you cannot tell him?"

"Will you?"

"When the time is right, yes. Lion-O deserves to hear the truth from me."

"Then I can. I can and I will."

"Do not accept this role as a means to keep an eye on me," Claudis replied, reaching out and finding Tygra's arm. "The two of us cannot be at odds."

"Knowing what I do now, I cannot fully trust you in an advisory role."

"I know, and I am truly sorry that you had to find out this way."

Claudis heard Tygra rise from his seat before taking his leave. Alone once more with his thoughts, Claudis finally let the tears come.

Lion-O meets his father for the first time since Thundera was lost. How will Tygra handle the burden of the truth about Lion-O's aging in stasis? Will it affect his performance as Lord of the ThunderCats? How will it affect his dealings with both father and son? All this and more in the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	14. Fathers and Sons

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode Fourteen

In his youth, Tygra had once studied the works of the philosopher Parro, of the Cheetah clan. Having lived nearly a century befrore Tygra's own time, his words had been recorded and passed down to enlighten future generations. The morning sun in the Royal Hall, as it was now called, filtered through the stained glass windows to leave the floor cast in a pleasing multicolor hue. Tygra kept his steps even, his face calm, as he approached the throne. The events of the previous evening still had parts of his mind reeling, yet others strangely calm and determined. Among Parro's quotes, Tygra's favorite went; "From birth to death, life is a series of steps."

That was certainly true now. Each step closer to Lion-O brought him closer to the destiny he'd accepted. What Claudis had done was both logical and horrible. That a man could do such a thing to his own son, regardless of reasons, sickened him. Granted, Claudis' words were nothing but truth. Tygra had reviewed the events of the past years before what was now known as the Mutant War, and found that Claudis' contingency plan was likely why they had not all wound up in chains with Mutant whips leaving marks on their backs. Lion-O's physical prowess, and close connection to the Eye of Thundera, had pulled their collective asses out of the fire as many times as the ThunderCats had done for Lion-O. Though, on one point his former king had been incorrect. The Mutants could have been handled. Mumm-Ra was a FAR different matter.

Or, had been until Sho had blasted him into apparent nothingness.

That had been something else to consider while he had been up half the night concocting nightmare scenarios. Sho's reawakening on Third Earth was a constant, a control for all the hypotheticals he could concoct. Only the most optimistic estimates Tygra could conceive allowed for the human to awaken in time to do much good for the ThunderCats. Oh, sure, he would have likely torn the Mutants limb from limb once they'd cornered him, but then what? For his own people, it would have been too little and too late.

Tygra hated that Claudis' plan had been borne out by circumstance along with forethought, but there was nothing to be done about it.

"Will you visit him today?" he asked once he neared the throne. Lion-O sat upon it, unusually pensive.

"Yes. I don't know if I'm really ready, but no sense in putting it off." Lion-O's voice still carried a heavy note of emotion at the thought of meeting his estranged father. "Cheetara's been an enormous help."

_Another whom I can't breathe a word of this to,_ he thought bitterly. The only other ThunderCat who knew was Siberias, and Tygra had convinced him of the need for secrecy. The one who had been known as a great listener, unable to fill another's ear when he needed it.

"Several of our artisans have placed bids for statues..."

"For the love of crap, Tygra, is this really important?"

"It actually is," he replied, glad for the change of subjects. "Monuments to kings both current and past are part of our artistic traditions. I have several bids for a statue of yourself along with several for statues of Sho. In both human and Guyver forms."

"I don't see how it's necessary," Lion-O groused. "And I don't think Sho would take to the idea, either."

"Your Highness, it IS necessary. The artisans need to ply their trade, and this cannot be put off indefinitely."

"Oh, fine," Lion-O said with a dismissive wave. "I'll review the submissions. Anything else?"

"Actually, yes. On thinking about your offer, I've decided to accept."

"Okay, I'll get right on that..." Lion-O paused, looking at him in near astonishment before chuckling to himself. "Almost slipped that past me," he replied with a smile.

"On considering, I feel it would be for the best for me to assume the role of Lord of the ThunderCats. Until an heir is born and comes of age, of course," Tygra added hastily.

"I know, and thank you. We'll present it to Council tonight, and then I suggest you start hitting the gym. Your Annointment Trials won't be easy. Mine weren't." Which was, both knew, the entire point. Proving one's worth for the title had to be the mightiest challenge for any ThunderCat who found themselves facing the taking of that mantle. "Anything further?"

"No, my lord..."

"Dammit, Tygra..."

"Lion-O. I apologize for the slip."

"I guess my father's standing order was tough for you."

"Insubordination isn't one of my strong suits, but that order did give me some trouble," Tygra said with a corner of his mouth upturned in mirth. "I have nothing further, so by your leave?"

"That'll be all. I guess I'll spend my day going over statue ideas. Could be worse, I know, but this seems like..."

"It's not a waste of time, Lion-O. Even if it feels like one." Tygra bowed and turned to leave, grateful that his king hadn't noticed the slight nervous timbre of his voice and doubly so that Cheetara hadn't been present due to her refusal of a throne until after their official joining. She would have picked up on it at once. Tygra knew he could ill afford for her to know that his acceptance of the lordship to be mainly because his trust in Claudis was no longer as rock-solid as it had been. It was a hell of a way to show fealty to his new king by keeping his old one in check.

Oswald Arthur Lisker sat in the foyer of Gil's home, his elbows on his knees and his fingers laced under his chin as he stared into the dormant fireplace. One thought echoed in the confines of his skull, that Grune was still alive and would want a bloody vengeance for his betrayal. Such didn't worry him overmuch, Grune stood no chance against him and both knew it, even with the forces of the Clutch now under his command. Lisker looked up as the front door opened to admit what had become Watershed's de-facto war council. Maria looked ill to her stomach.

"What is it?"

"Word's gettin 'round about our guest." Gil spat the last word out in disgust.

"People have been asking me when the execution is," Maria said, her lilting voice sounded as bad as she obviously felt. Wollos were hardly fans of violence, he reminded himself.

"Killing him now wouldn't do any good," Natalie said, her original outfit back in place. She preferred it over her more casual clothes, being her last real tie to the tribe she'd been wrongly cast out of. Both of them knew her chances of being welcomed back with anything other than a dagger between her ribs was virtually non-existent.

"I agree." He aimed those two words at Gil most of all.

"Lisker, how do you know his words are true?"

"Simple. There's no way any of the Clutch could know about my former affiliation with Grune, or about the former Mutant Army. Word doesn't travel the way it used to these days. There's no way he could have been sent here to spread disinformation. Not with the way he described Grune."

"I see your point," Dendel offered. "So, why would he jump ship?"

"MICE," Lisker said before thinking. The incredulous looks he received from the rest nearly caused his face to burn.

"Lisker," Gil began, "I agree they're all vermin, but..."

"It's an acronym," he exlpained, then sighed at their slightly puzzled expressions before rising and moving to the foyer's large table. Lisker selected a mostly blank roll of paper on which he wrote MICE. "It means," he said as he wrote out the other words, "Money, Ideology, Concience, Ego."

"Each letter is a word unto itself," Natalie breathed, somewhat amazed at the concept. Lisker kept his opinion of Third Earth's education levels to himself.

"Exactly," he said with a warm smile. "Anyway, these are the main reasons why people turn traitor. So, let's review our mutt's arrival based on this. He still jugged?"

"F'r now," Benjamin said. The larger man's views on what to do with their former Clutch member were clear enough.

"Fine. First off is Money. Everyone likes to get paid. Thing is, he lost all that once he left. Mezzo might not have all that much upstairs, but he had to know he couldn't sell what he knew. Since that's out, and it works with ALL the other parts, we go to Ideology."

"Might makes right is how men like that think," Natalie opined.

"Not all men think the same way. Since Mezzo left them, we have to assume he didn't like the way things were shaping up. Ideology IS a factor, but not the critical one. Next is Conscience."

"The Clutch," Gil began darkly, "doesn't have one."

"As a group, no. As individuals, maybe. Finally, we have Ego."

"The strongest one." Maria looked up at the rest, clearly confident. "Mezzo wanted to leave because he wanted to live."

"Mebbe the 'C' in that oughtta be 'Cowardice'."

"From what he said, Ben, once you get the tattoo you're in for life. Leaving at that point isn't an option," Lisker replied. "So, we can assume he's done enough bad mojo to get that far. Besides, it's not like he defected to the good guys, but I don't think that matters. He's only afraid of us because we found him out. What he's more afraid of, I think, is if any of his former hombres catch up to him. 'Blood in, blood out,' as they used to say."

"I still say we should..."

"Execute him?" Lisker replied, cutting Gil off mid-sentence. "I guess we could, but what would that serve other than making him into a symbol? Let's not forget what separates us from The Clutch. We're not murderers."

"So, what do we do? We can't just let him go," Natalie added. "Even if he wasn't personally involved in the seige of Watershed..."

"Then we milk him for every scrap of information we can. It'll be a little slow, but Mezzo'll talk."

"You propose to offer him his freedom," Gil said bluntly, clearly disagreeing.

"Gotta have a carrot on the end of the stick. If he cooperates, and I can confirm enough of what he says to determine they aren't headed here any longer, then we grill him for info on their former employer. From what I could tell, this Gelroz is someone who needs to be brought down a peg or three."

"Right noble of ya," Benjamin drawled.

"So, that's it. We let him go."

"Once he's outside the walls of Watershed, he's no longer our problem." Lisker shot Gil a look with that line, a brief exchange of glances which only the two men knew had any signifigance. Gil nodded at once, clearly understanding his intent and approving. Lisker looked away, unconcerned that Mezzo would likely be hunted down and killed by some of the more ardent protestors in Watershed of his continued existence. Defectors were never trusted, after all.

"I stand before you," Grune began, gesturing with his cybernetic right arm, "with the promise of a new age. Before, under the command of Rinaldo..." whom he had killed within full sight of The Clutch along with a few of his more loyal soldiers, "... you were nothing more than mercenaries. Disposable tools to be used for his own financial benefit." Not as though they would be much different, but Grune would give them a better illusion. "Why put up with that? What is the point of pillage if it doesn't come with power?" Grune saw the questioning gazes and knew already that he had them. "Rinaldo might have promised to make you rich, but I can make you all KINGS!" Grins of avarice began to appear on the faces of the humans and Trollogs before him. They were sold. "Riches! Land! Servants! Hot and cold running women!" Several ragged cheers arose at that last one. "All of this can be yours! I can bestow upon you the weapons of the Ancients, the men of Second Earth!" A collective gasp and furtive glances at one another followed. "I know where to find stockpiles of weapons which even the mighty Tuska warriors would quail against!" Some eyes hardened at that, clearly having gone up against the Tuskas before. "Follow me, and I'll make each of you a king among men!" None of them, he noticed, asked what he would get out of it and that suited Grune just fine. Manipulating such short-sighted idiots was all too easy. Though Ratar-O had not provided him Mutant weapons, the cowled man standing just behind to his right had shown him ancient depots of weapons which were just as effective if more primitive.

"So, that's the story," Lisker said once Mezzo finished his recounting of Grune's speech. The two sat across from each other in the small space which had been cleared of all but two torches for light, two chairs, and a plain wooden table between them. The flickering light left enough shadow in the surrounding space to give the illusion of space within the chamber. Mezzo tried to appear relaxed and nonchalant, though the glimmer of fear in his mud-brown (shit-brown, if one asked Benjamin), eyes betrayed the anxious tension.

"Yeah," the other drawled, "figgered it was time to get out. Man starts talkin 'bout conquest, we're the ones what he walks on to get there."

"I see that," Lisker said, nodding slightly. "Now, let's talk about your future."

"Really?" The eyes were filled with suspicion.

"I don't need to tell you this, but since I'm a nice guy, I'll make sure the point's clear." Lisker leaned back, the picture of nonchalant. "You're not well liked here, Mezzo. In fact, you're looking at the only reason you haven't ridden a rope yet."

"Guess you're a real big turd in this pile," Mezzo replied. Lisker ignored the taunt.

"However you wanna put it. All I know is there are a few hundred good souls out there who think the best thing you can do for Third Earth is to leave it postehaste." Mezzo's arrogant smirk froze at that. "I'm the only one arguing to keep you alive. So far, I'm winning." Mezzo's expression cracked.

"Guess I oughtta thank you."

"Not just yet. See, I'm only keeping them away from you because you have something I need. Otherwise, I wouldn't have batted an eye once Gil strung you up from the top of his house. Now, I can keep that from happening."

"Don't know what I've got that you'd want," he replied as he patted down his empty pockets.

"Information," Lisker said. "The Clutch's numbers. Where they're heading. What they plan to do. Then, I want to know about the guy you used to work for."

"Rinaldo? Can't use much on a corpse."

"Not him, the one who bankrolled you."

"Gelroz. Why?"

"Just let me worry about that." Mezzo's inherent arrogance began to rally at that.

"What, you think you can take all me old mates on yourself?"

"The last group to come calling wasn't much of a challenge. Exposing someone's spine to open air leaves an impression on people." Mezzo, as Lisker thought he would, began to have himself a good laugh off that.

"You tellin' me that bug monster I heard of was you?!" he said once he could breathe once more.

"Is that a 'Prove it' I hear?"

"Go right ahead," he said, waving his arms in front of him. Lisker allowed the grin he'd been suppressing to finally show.

"Suppose he's convinced..." Benjamin's question was cut short by the sound of the explosion from the other side of the door which now didn't sit in its frame quite as well as before. Gil, Benjamin, Dendel, and Natalie all gaped at the spot where the wooden barrier seemed ready to fall the rest of the way off its hinges. Maria, for her part, looked a tad smug.

"At least we didn't use that room for much," Gil said at length, shaking his head in disbelief.

"So, gentlemen," Maria said with her hand out. Gil, Dendel, and Benjamin pulled five gold coins each from their pouches and placed them in her waiting palm. "Thank you!" she chirped sweetly on being paid.

"Remind me not to bet against you again, lil' darlin," Benjamin said in a good-natured grumble.

"So," Lisker said as Mezzo tried to cram as much of himself as he could into a corner, "do we understand each other?" The wall and floor each bore a brand new crater thanks to his summoning the Guyver. The portion of the table which had been in the barrier's diameter was now in splinters, the top itself slanted to the floor. The growing stain on the front of Mezzo's pants alone had been worth bio-boosting. "Good boy."

Lion-O found that this was a day he'd been waiting for nearly all his life, yet never once on the conscious level. The door to the Medical Wing daunted him, seemed to taunt him for his hesitance. Inside was his own father, alive and well after all this time. He had decided to come alone, thinking himself capable of something as seemingly simple as meeting his estranged father. Only after arriving had he realized just how difficult a proposition it was. He tried to will the butterflies in his stomach to shut the hell up, yet they refused to listen to him.

The door opened, and Pumyra stopped short on seeing him in the corridor.

"How is he?" he asked, just to say something.

"Claudis," Pumyra said, "is doing fine, and would like to see his son." As Court Physician, she could speak to Lion-O in ways that protocol said others couldn't.

"I walked right into that," he said with a shake of his head.

"Go on in, Lion-O," she replied more gently. Pumyra took her leave as Lion-O entered.

Claudis heard the approaching footsteps, a measured and proud stride, and caught the achingly familiar scent of his son. His heart wanted to turn somersaults and tear itself in half. Here was his boy, grown into a man far more quickly than nature had intended, and all due to a contingency plan.

"I was hoping you'd stop by to see your dear old dad," he said in a light voice. Claudis turned his head to the sound of Lion-O's approach. "Come." He swung his legs off the bed to make room and patted the space to his right. "Sit by me. Please."

Lion-O eased himself down next to the man who had sired him. So many questions, so much to ask him! Even what Jaga had told him seemed hollow next to seeing this man.

"I know you have questions, son," he said. "Ask them."

"Are you proud of me?" Lion-O gasped at that. Of all the questions he could have asked, and that one had been high among them, why had he blurted that one out? Claudis laughed gently, easing an arm about Lion-O's shoulders.

"Of course I am, son. Of course I am." Lion-O felt the hand grip his shoulder. "I've heard so much since I was found. You make me proud." Claudis' hand eased up to his chin. "I need to look at you." Lion-O let him run his hands over his face, having seen Lynx-O do the very same thing. "Such a strong face," he said. "But, as I recall, your mother's eyes. Ah, she must be as proud as I am, in the Astral Plane."

"Thank you." His voice was hoarse from the emotion of the moment, the kitten he'd once been wanting to hug his father. So many years without him, and all of a sudden... "I was told why you weren't around. I understand, father." Claudis dipped his head at that, breathing in deeply.

"Lion-O, I wanted to be there for you. Not one day went by that I didn't lament not being the father you needed. Your mother had passed, and Snarf did a fine job with you, but..."

"Jaga told me all of that. He still comes to me, even from the Astral Plane. I don't know what I would have done without him, or the ThunderCats."

"I know, and here you are. A man, proud and strong, king of his people. But, to me, you will always be the cub who was handed to me after your birth. One day, when you become a father, you'll understand what I mean." Lion-O kept silent, wanting just to hear his father's voice. "What you've all built is truly amazing, my son."

"We didn't do it alone..." Claudis nodded before continuing.

"The boy Sho had a large hand in it, I'm told. I would like to meet him."

"You will, father. Sho's... unlike anyone else I've met on Third Earth."

"Once I'm cleared to leave this damn bed, I'll officially cede the throne. To think that I'd get to do that. It's one of the things I'd always wanted to do."

"Father, you..."

"No. Seeing you take the throne... I've envisioned that day..." Lion-O could see the tears building, and willed his own not to fall. Claudis moved, embracing him fiercely. Lion-O returned the embrace, the warmth in his heart threatnening to burst.

"Father..." All of the emotions of the moment were bottled into that one word.

"I love you, my son... I always have... Never doubt that, Lion-O." They remained there, a son who had yearned for his father and a father who had been forced away from his son. They parted, then, not knowing what more to say. Words seemed to be inadequate to the moment.

"I love you too, father." Words he'd always wanted to say to this man.


	15. Collection of Forces

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode 15

Sho had no idea why he was being summoned to the Medical Wing. In fact, he had no clue why everyone had been so tense lately. He wondered if it had anything to do with that ship the Lair's sensors had spotted several days ago. Bengali wouldn't say a word as they worked in the Forge, nor would Myrlha when they were alone. Sho had chalked it up to ThunderCat business, having no illusions of his place in those affairs. A Vanguard had no political clout, and Sho was entirely fine with that. The looks of admiration, even awe, he got at odd moments while out and about made him feel several kinds of awkward. He just wasn't used to being a hero, and didn't think he ever would. There was one, a rather short Wildcat who looked as though he wanted to snarl at everyone and everything, who had piqued his curiosity. He was still learning the ins and outs of Thunderian society.

However, there were a few who sent him hostile looks when they thought he couldn't see them. That had Sho troubled. He had no illusions about being universally loved by his adopted countrymen, but that?! It was why, when his schedule allowed, he went out among the people. If he could learn the intricacies of his new social order, then perhaps he could figure out why he got those looks.

"Right on time!" Lion-O's voice brought him back to reality. Sho stopped, his confusion now doubled. Cheetara stood next to him, and both were radiating good cheer. What the hell was this, anyway?

"Of course." He didn't use Lion-O's name, with him being king it didn't seem right, but knew he hated titles when not needed. "So, what's up?"

"There's someone very special inside," Cheetara began, "who wants very much to meet you."

"Whoever was on that ship, right? Must be someone pretty important."

"You could say that." This came from Lion-O. "Go on in, Sho. I won't spoil the surprise."

The door slid open, and Sho saw the unknown man standing by the bed. He was clad in a suit of dark purple, his body still well-muscled though aged. His hair bore more white in it than red, the eyes obviously sightless. Sho looked at his face before turning back to Lion-O, then back to the man. Realization hit like a falling bomb.

"Oh," was all he said.

"Quick on the uptake," the man who was obviously Lion-O's father said. "I like you already, young Sho. Helping free so many of my countrymen from bondage didn't hurt either."

"We'll leave you two alone," Cheetara said as they took their leave. Sho looked back at him, finally recalling his name.

"So, you're Lord Claudis. It's an honor."

"Oh, stop with the titles, Sho. We're alone in here, and I despise them as much as my son does. Come here." Sho obeyed, letting Claudis run his hands over his face. "So young... Yet older than my own bloodline. I've been told of your deeds, Sho. Allow me to thank you."

"Oh, um... Well..." Claudis laughed, holding his stomach.

"Just as modest as I've heard you to be! I can feel your blush!" Claudis laughed a little more before his face turned serious again. "To think, that one with your power and your quality should exist. It is an honor, Sho Fukamachi."

"Thank you, sir."

"So, how do you like being among Thunderians?"

"I'm still learning my way around, but I like it."

"Good, good. You uphold the Code quite well, I'm told."

"I try." Sho blushed at that. Handling praise was still something he was trying to get a grip on. Being in Claudis' presence was becoming more awkward by the moment. Yes, he'd done good things, but being lauded a hero was something he would just never get used to.

"How about transforming?" The question snapped him out of his latest reverie.

"Um... Huh?"

"Oh, come now, what's the harm?"

"Has... um... anyone told you what happens when I do that?"

"Is this a problem?"

"Pumyra will have the problem." Claudis' expression caused him to heave a sigh. "When I change, a barrier surrounds me."

"And?"

"Well... Anything within about two meters of me gets... kinda destroyed."

"Oh." Claudis said simply. "I see. Well, then..."

"Yeah..." The silence thickened between them. "I'd love to, but..."

"Forgive me for asking. I wasn't told everything about your power."

"I definitely will, though," Sho said, taking the out he'd seen.

"I shall hold you to it."

Pumyra sat in the laboratory, staring at readouts concerning the bio-booster armor. So much data, and still so few answers! She reached for her personal recorder, on which she made notes for later transcription. She could have had Kyrrana do that, but the woman had enough on her plate. Besides, there were some things Pumyra preferred to do herself.

"Entry 108," she began once the record button had been pressed. "Suppositions on the functional nature of the bio-booster armor." She stretched in her seat as she called up the relevant data. "The organism seems to act in the manner of a step-up transformer, converting Sho's own bio-energy into enormous power. As for how it happens... be damned if I know." Pumyra stopped speaking for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "My scans of Sho in his human state indicate that his species produces a fair amount of electricity, and quite a bit of heat energy. The enhanced strength and speed can be explained by enhancement of the muscle and nervous tissue. None of this, however, explains the raw power of the megasmasher." Pumyra took a sip of coffee, the fuel of all professionals, before continuing. "Not gonna lie, this has me stumped."

The door slid open to reveal Myrlha. Pumyra ended her dictation, slightly embarrassed at having forgotten about calling her into her lab.

"What's this about?" Myrlha asked as she took the seat Pumyra indicated.

"I'm speaking only as a physician," Pumyra began. "Myrlha, how close are you with Sho?"

"We share a bed. I'd say that's pretty close."

"Oh. So, you're intimate?"

"Where is this going?"

"Myrlha," she began, easing her chair to the one in which the other sat, "Are you and Sho trying to start a family?"

"I'm... not sure where this is going," she said.

"Centuries ago," Pumyra began, "Interbreeding between the clans was nearly impossible." Ancient traditions of pure bloodlines had held on well after Unification. "With the advancement of medical science, interbreeding became easier, but..."

"We're not talking about cubs just YET!" Myrlha cried out, shocked.

"Which is why I'm bringing this up now. Myrlha, I like you. I hate the thought of hurting you, but it's better if this is made clear now." Pumyra stilled her emotions, wanting to make this message as concise as possible. It was a hell of a thing to tell a young woman so in love, especially since she had a child of her own now.

"Okay." Myrlhas' voice carried an unsteady note in it. Even if they hadn't been thinking about a family, this was a raincloud Pumyra hated to bring.

"Sho isn't from a different clan, he's from a different species. I understand that humans and Thunderians are compatable sexually..."

"But we might not be able to breed."

"Yes. Even if you could conceive, and I hope you can, I have no way to know how the Guyver will affect the child."

"Wait, what?!"

"The armor bonded with Sho on the genetic level. Unfortunately, I can't tell how."

"Why not?"

"Sho is the only human I have a genetic profile for," she explained. "Without another to use as a control, I can't tell exactly what changes the bio-booster armor made to him. The only human settlements we've had any experience with have been with Warrior Maidens, and they don't trust our medical science worth a damn." Which was an irony, since the ThunderCats had learned more than a few herbal remedies from them.

"I see." Pumyra saw the hurt in Myrlha's eyes, and hated having put it there. Better to have done it sooner than later, but that was only a small consolation. "Well, we haven't really talked about a family... I mean..."

"I'm not saying it's impossible," Pumyra said as she placed her hands on Myrlha's wrists. "I truly hope you can."

"But... we might not..."

_Oh, damn,_ she thought. Pumyra knew she would take it hard. "Listen. There are other options if..."

"Thank you for telling me this," she said in a near-mechanical voice as she stood. "You were right. It's best to know now." Myrlha turned and left, and Pumyra could say nothing to her retreating back as the door opened and shut once she'd passed.

Alone. She had never felt so utterly alone in the bed she shared with him. Myrlha rolled onto her stomach, holding the sheets of his side to her nose and breathing in his scent. She had thought about the things Pumyra had said before today. Hearing it, however, had sent a spike of pain through the haze she had pulled over the issue. A child. Of course she wanted one, just not so soon. A life with Sho. To have one, but not the other. The thought brought tears again.

Even if they could start a family in the natural way, how would the child be affected by the Guyver? It was a question she had never once considered. She loved him, no doubt about it, but would his armor affect their child? Assuming they could even concieve one? Questions raced about her mind. She wanted a baby to grow inside her, to feel a new life within. To be denied that...

It was so unfair. To have found happiness, love, all that she'd wanted after being in chains for so long, to learn that this one thing might be denied her. Part of her, irrational and hurt, wanted to lash out. To scream in Pumyra's face for saying what she did without one hundred percent certainty. The larger part of her mind forced it down as nonsense, reminding her that the other woman had been right to tell her now. Even if she had a child of her own...

Myrlha buried her face in the sheets which smelled so much of him. She knew she would now count the minutes until he returned.

"You still haven't told me why you're doing this," Grune said as he flexed the metal arm Ratar-O had provided him. Never would he have thought to have that particular Mutant as his sponsor again. The mission was simple, keep the ThunderCats' attention away from certain areas. That it dovetailed with his own goals, which he had kept to himself, only sweetened the pot. The cloaked man who sat in the corner of the capacious tent merely shrugged. The cowl dipped over his eyes, leaving only a sharp nose and thin lips visible above the needle-tip chin.

"I've spent a long time studying the history and myths of this world," the man who called himself Agito replied. "The chance to help make history is one I cannot pass up."

"Even if it involves fire and bloodshed?" Agito smiled at the question.

"That, Grune, is the best kind of history. No one ever forgets it." Grune had a hearty laugh at that.

"A man after my own heart!"

"Tell me, if you will, why it is you wish to kill this Lion-O so badly? Is it to make history?"

"My legacy will be written in his blood, and that of those who bow to him."

"I see. Interesting." Grune took a seat on a handy cushion and set about to adjusting the arm's response.

"Those stockpiles of weapons you showed me... Not as good as Thunderian arms, but better than swords and arrows. Once I begin to carve out a kingdom, I'll have all the hostages I need to keep the ThunderCats at bay." The boy, Sho, would be held back as well, especially if he adhered to the Code. Lisker, if he was still with that damn Wollo bitch, might be held at bay as well.

"There are more," Agito replied.

"Good."

"If there's nothing further?"

"No, not now."

Agito did his best not to snarl as he left Grune's tent. The members of the Clutch raced about, cradling ancient weapons and leering at the thought of imminent conquest. Fools. These examples of base existence had no clue that they were being used. Neither did Grune, for that matter.

Time was running out, he knew. His plan to bring Sho under his sway had failed. What had replaced it was hardly the best option, but was all he had. He knew what Grune had to be looking for. If it led him to what he sought, so much the better.

"Damn," Lisker muttered as he re-entered Watershed from the eastern entrance. The two guards, each bearing a steel sword with a musket along his back, nodded and posed no challenge as he walked through. The noise of commerce and street performers along with the throng of people brought to his admittedly tired brain a strange amalgam of Wall Street and, say, Mardi Gras. Minus the beads and the hedonism.

The first interview, or interrogation depending on one's outlook, of Mezzo had lasted long into the night. Lisker hadn't bothered changing back, letting the alien tone of his voice through the sonic buster rattle the bastard. Mezzo had spotted that trick, but had no clue what his enhanced sight, hearing, and the sensor medals told him.

Mezzo's heartbeat had been rapid, but fear explained that. Pulse high, sweating, clearly afraid. Again, all attributable to fear. Early the next morning, Lisker had set off into the wilderness bearing camping gear and in search of the Clutch's last known location. Once out of the sight of Watershed's lookouts, he'd transformed and made the trip in record time.

The area Mezzo had given him had looked as though a frat party had rolled through with no brakes. While no beer cans had been in evidence, there had been discarded animal carcasses aplenty along with long-extinguished campfires. A sizeable force of men and Trollogs had been there, judging by the tracks. He had followed their trail south, until satisfied that they were well and truly moving away from Watershed. Grune and the Clutch were no longer his problem.

As Lisker dodged between a pair of Tabbots who had been talking animatedly about something or other, he considered alerting Sho and decided against it. The Thunderian colony had to have far better tech than Watershed, not to mention a Guyver of its own. Tired as he was, Lisker still questioned exactly what Grune could be up to. True, the man's hatred for their king bordered on the psychotic. True, also, that his hate extended to their very way of life. Even so, he'd be facing far more favorable odds against Watershed. Besides, Grune had to have hated him about as much as he did that Lion-O guy.

Lisker shook his head to clear it as he made his way to Gil's home. What the hell was that bastard up to? Sho could handle him and his new cronies alone. With both hands tied behind his back. Guerilla warfare tactics? THAT wouldn't work for long. And where, exactly, had that prosthetic arm Mezzo had mentioned come from? He filed that away for later pondering. All he wanted to do was deliver his information, then get to bed. He'd walked back from his search, just to kill time and make it seem like he'd spent days searching instead of hours. All this effort to hide his powers. Lisker snorted at that as he approached the door.

It opened on the third knock. Maria blitzed him, wrapping her arms about his midsection and snuggling against him.

"Well, you certainly look like hell," Gil quipped. William, having recovered from his ordeal, was sitting before the dormant fireplace with a chessboard between himself and Natalie. Benjamin sauntered up to him, offering a corked bottle of his atomic beer.

"If I so much as sniff that," Lisker began, "I'll be asleep on the floor." He made his way to an open chair and allowed himself to flop into it. "I've confirmed what Mezzo told me. The Clutch is no longer our problem."

"Good news for us," Gil said, "and bad news for those cat people."

"Not so much, and that's what's got me stumped. Their weapons are FAR better than what I was able to give you. Plus, they also have a Guyver to throw. I have no idea what Grune's up to."

"You're obviously tired," Natalie said. "Rest, Lisker."

"Tempting, but I got some thinking to do."

"Never a good idea to do so when you're bushed," Gil said as he took the seat across from him.

"I'm used to it, believe me..."

"No, Lisker, rest."

"I'll stay with him," Maria said. Gil nodded once before the rest took their leave. Benjamin left the bottle of beer on the table next to the chair. Lisker doubted he'd need it, but was glad to know it was available. "Rest, love." She curled up into his lap, her arms about his neck and his own about her waist. Sleep came within moments.

"Well, that seems to be that," Dendel offered as they stood in the afternoon sun in the grass behind Gil's home. William flopped onto the grass, profoundly relieved at the thought of never seeing any of the Clutch again. Natalie, for her part, eased over to the stone table which rested in the sun and sat atop it with her shapely legs crossed and swinging lightly.

"Looks like all the preparations Lisker made didn't mean squat," Benjamin added as he popped his broad back. "Hell, it'll be easier to handle the next bunch a' punks what come through."

"Yes," Gil replied. His face wore a pensive expression as he pondered the newest development.

"From what I hear," Natalie began, "those cat people are even better prepared for such an attack than we are. And that is certainly saying something."

"Hm."

"Don't tell me you WANTED them to come back?" Dendel cried.

"Of course not. In all honesty, I'm relieved we didn't have to put those new weapons to use." The problem, he had come to realize, was that with reassurance at having them came the dread of having to use them. "I can handle an anticlimax on this one."

"So now what?" Benjamin asked for all of them. "If they ain't comin', ain't no need to keep plannin' for it, is there?"

"You don't put away plans like that," Natalie said. "Remember, I come from a Warrior Maiden tribe. We always practice our skills and our strategies. You never know when you'll need them."

"Well said." Gil smiled broadly at her. He had known Verona, and the news of her fate had been a blow even though their relationship hadn't been exactly equal. "I don't see your sisters launching a raid on my town, however."

"By now, Solange must be queen," Natalie said in a small voice. "Even if she's lost the support of the Clutch, once she's upon Verona's throne, her authority is absolute."

"But, they'd be nuts to come here!" William protested.

"Solange is insane," Natalie said. "She conspired with outsiders, used a forbidden extract, AND dared to tamper with another's blood. The queen's no less. Gil, I know you understand where I'm coming from."

"Yes. Even so, the disadvantage your sisters..."

"Former sisters," she corrected him.

"I apologize. What move could Solange make on us?"

"None that I can see, I admit," Natalie said after a moment's thought. "Solange craves power, perhaps the throne will be enough for her. We... THEY... fight to defend the Wood, not to conquer."

"She has a personal score to settle with you, and with Mister Lisker," Dendel offered.

"What if she showed up demanding we give Natalie back?" William asked, now sitting upright and clearly worried.

"She doesn't have a way to force my hand," Gil said. "She lacks the assets to successfully attack us, nor do we have any treaties or agreements..." He trailed off, a thought occurring to him. "They could close the road nearest their land."

"And demand you surrender me in return for its opening," Natalie finished.

"No," Gil said with finality. "I won't sacrifice an innocent life for the sake of commerce."

"Then, there will be bloodshed one way or the other," Natalie said, her voice and posture a study in fatalism. "Either mine alone, or many more. With or without Lisker's involvement." That last statement brought all present to an awkward pause. Lisker could easily remove any chokes Solange could place upon that part of the east to west road, though it would be tantamount to cold-blooded murder. "If I am not here, this might not be a problem."

"And if it still is? You said it y'rself, that bitch's loony."

"Solange sees all men as either beasts. She won't believe you if you say I've left, even if I do. She'll demand proof, even though she knows you can't provide it to her satisfaction. Allowing some of her warriors to search Watershed whenever the mood strikes her will make you seem weak to them all. Going to war will only prove that men cannot be trusted with power. If I give myself over..."

"I vote no on that."

Everyone's head jerked to find Lisker standing in the doorway leading into Gil's home. Maria was in front of him, her jaw hanging open.

"You CAN'T just give yourself to them!" she cried.

"Then, what do you suggest?"

"Wow, what woke you up?" Dendel asked.

"I did," Maria replied. "I shifted on his lap. He's a rather light sleeper."

"Will they send assassins after you?"

"No. No one is really allowed to leave the Wood, unless through death. What are you thinking about?"

"There just might be a way to keep Solange from getting too uppity and keep you alive at the same time."

Solange exited her new hut, formerly home of the now-late Verona and viewed her realm with satisfaction. It was all hers, now. Rinaldo's sudden disappearance had been something she'd factored into her own plans once his men had been laid to waste. However that Lisker had found out about him was immaterial. If that... male... thought removing her source of the extract would derail her plans, he'd been sadly mistaken. Cutting off Verona's dosage all at once after so long had led to her going mad with pain until her heart had finally just stopped all at once. All very tragic, all the proper rituals performed, the body properly burned, and then that wicker throne was hers. As were her people.

All the women, at least. Men were little more than animals in her eyes. Useful for making babies, but that was it. Solange didn't care about an heir, the power in her hands now was all and it wasn't as though she could take that with her when the Spirits called her to them. Having become queen, in accordance to the doctrine, guaranteed her a place among them. Besides, a woman could do all a man could do. Even do it all better. She had seen the pain of childbirth before, and wanted no part of it. In her new position, she could have her pick of both men and women.

Power, she thought, was all and it was indeed good.

She feared no assassin's blade as she trod the walkways among the boughs of the mighty trees. Murdering the queen was, by and large, incomprehensible to the peons beneath her. It had been an alien concept to her, once upon a time, until she began to see what power really brought. Dominance over everyone, a free ride into the arms of the Spirits of the Wood. Who WOULDN'T want that? Rinaldo, even if he was a mere male, had given her a golden ticket to that and at such a low cost.

"HEY!"

The shout brought her, and all the other Warrior Maidens, up short as several heads all searched for the source of the distorted voice. Solane alone recognized it and terror welled in her heart. In the name of the Spirits, why was HE here?! Solange looked up to find Lisker, fully armored, descending from the sky. Her eyes tracked him as he landed on the walkway directly in front of her.

"Enjoying your promotion?" he asked. Solange, to her credit, kept herself from shivering. "Good. We need to talk."

"What do you want, creature?!" she roared, pleased at how forceful her voice sounded.

Lisker wanted to groan at her false bravado. He didn't bother with further pleasantries, merely grasping her by the front of her tunic and commanding the gravity controller to hoist them skyward. He stopped once the trees were a mere green blur beneath them and her struggles became a desperate double-handed grip on his wrist.

"Listen," he began," I don't give two shits about how you became queen here. What I do care about is a certain girl named Natalie. I'm sure you remember her."

"Don't drop me!"

"Don't tempt me. I know you have a score to settle with her, and with me, but keep this in mind. You don't have what it takes to settle THAT kind of score." Solange's face fell at that. "I came here to tell you two things. First, Natalie's home is in Watershed now, until she chooses to leave it. Secondly, you WILL NOT take ANY action against Watershed. For ANY reason. Do I make myself clear?"

"Do you think I'll just bow to you?"

"Do you think I won't just drop you? Have you forgotten who you're fucking with?" Her eyes showed that she hadn't. "Remember that. You can stay queen of these amazons, so long as you do nothing against Watershed. Even if I'm not there, they can defend themselves from you. If I am there, well, you know what can happen."

"You'll kill us all, you monster?!"

"No. You. Mythra. Vera. Leara. Sehra. Vollu. Cecilly. Get the hint?" Solange went pale with the mention of each of her most trusted warriors. "Them, and you. Get it?" Her terrified eyes showed that she did. Lisker didn't like using such intimidation, but the current situation had made it unavoidable. "Keep that well in mind." With that, he eased them back into the canopy of leaves and set her down before rocketin into the sky once more.

Solange had no clue why her knees hadn't buckled. Only rage kept the terror at bay, and even that was impotent. Lisker had gotten those names from Natalie, there was no other explanation, and she knew he hadn't delivered an empty threat. Those words had dripped with murderous intent, and he could easily make them a reality. She ignored the women who surrounded her, their frantic questions, as she trod back to her hut. All the plans she had been making, all undone by that slut and her pet monster. She had never wanted anything more than rule of the Wood. She had that, now, along with a promise that expanding her reign would bring death to her and all whom she trusted.


	16. Passing the Throne

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode 16

Natalie gaped at Lisker over the breakfast table once he'd finished recounting the events in the Wood, her own plate forgotten. Never had a man so accosted a queen of a Warrior Maiden tribe! Lisker himself merely forked more egg into his mouth and looked as though he'd done nothing out of the ordinary. Even Maria looked a little stunned.

"Solange needed to be brought down a peg or two," Lisker said to fill the silence. "So long as she stays in the trees, she's fine."

"You realize you've weakened her hold over them?"

"Yep. Part of the plan. As long as they don't bother Watershed, they won't have to worry about me. Solange can't assault this place, and she won't take any action with the thought of dealing with me in mind."

"Why did you do this?" Lisker, who had been sipping his morning coffee, set the cup back down in a slow motion.

"Just because handing you over would have been easy it still wouldn't have been right. Besides, it wouldn't have guaranteed anything. Not with that psycho in charge anyway."

"So, now peace breaks out all over?" Maria asked. "From a standoff?"

"Way it goes sometimes," Lisker replied. "Look, back when this was the United States, there was another nation on the other side of the world called the Soviet Union."

"An enemy nation?"

"We weren't exactly friends, Natalie. What kept us from going to war was an acronym called MAD. It meant Mutually Assured Destruction." Lisker sipped more coffee as he let that settle in. "Back then, there were weapons called nuclear warheads."

"What..."

"Maria, before you ask, they could have been launched at any time, and where they hit, millions would have died." Their faces went slack at that. Neither Maria nor Natalie could comprehend a number that hideous, but mass death they could. "MAD essentially meant that if one side launched, the other would and both nations would have been destroyed." It was an overly simplified explanation of the Cold War, but it would do for his audience. In his opinion, nuclear annihilation was what had kept the Cold War from becoming a hot one.

Lion-O cast a sidelong glance at his father as the latter stood once more before his very confused people. The mid-day sun cast its light down on the assembled citizens of the colony, the Thunderian majority murmuring amongst themselves, and he wondered again if such an assembly had been a good idea. Claudis had insisted on it, explaining that his continued existence could not be kept secret much longer and that the sooner the people had the facts laid bare, the better.

"My countrymen," he began. The sombre note in his voice was resonant even without the amplifier patch on his throat. "You no doubt wonder how I am standing before you when, by all accounts, I should have perished with beloved Thundera. Let me say, that my coming here was no easy task and that were it not for the ThunderCats, I would never have arrived at all.

"Over my convalescence, I have learned of the great deeds performed by the ThunderCats. Of the heroic effort all of you put into building this fine home for our people. Allow me to thank you for all of it. Your hard work, your perseverance during your dark days of bondage to the Mutants, your bravery in facing a new world and a new future, ALL show that the heart and soul of our race live on! That the spirit of Thundera lives even after our home is gone!"

Lion-O marvelled at how he had them hanging on every word as he recounted the tale of his trek to Third Earth and the lamentable loss of the engineer who'd ensured his survival. The impromptu speech he'd made just before the site for the colony had been selected paled in comparison to his father's oratory skills. He reminded himself that his father had far more experience in this field. Along with everything else related to being king.

"However," Claudis said without missing a beat, "we now face a dillemma. Two kings stand before you, and both with rightful claim to the throne. I assure you all, that NO foul play was at work in my son's ascencion. There was NO plot, NO conspiracy of ANY kind!" His voice seemed to thunder against the very heavens and even Lion-O flinched slightly. Actually seeing the man at work, he thought, made all the descriptions he'd heard seem pale and pathetic. "My own death had been a logical assumption, given the circumstances, and my son sits upon the throne as is his right! This day, I step down from that throne, and my heart bursts with joy to finally ceede that throne to Lion-O. Long may he reign!"

The cheers which erupted were deafening. The sight of how skillfully Claudis had led the people where he wanted frightened Lion-O somewhat. Was this all part of statecraft? Exactly what was he getting into, here? He stepped up to his father as planned, but the smile on Claudis' face was indeed genuine.

"My people," Lion-O began, "Today is a joyous occaision for us all! One of our own has come to us from the depths of space. There are others among the stars, and they shall find their way home! My father is but the first!" Cheers erupted at that. "We shall find them, and bring them all home!" Lion-O looked at Claudis, and the latter's smile was all the encouragement he needed.

Tygra applauded where appropriate and kept the smile fixed on his face as he watched them together. The sight should have brought him joy but he couldn't help but think about what Claudis had done to him. If Slythe hadn't launched that fateful assault, they would have reached their destination and Jaga would have led the ThunderCats for a time. Then, it would have fallen into his hands, for Jaga hadn't been young then. This entire scenario would never have come to be, and no one would have been the wiser.

But, it had and Tygra hated that Claudis' reasons had been right. And now, the man would likely take a position as an advisor (as a ThunderCat and former king, he had the right) and as Lion-O's father, the man would listen to him. On the surface, it seemed a fairy tale ending. But, Tygra could not stand idly knowing what he did. Claudis could talk about contingency plans and the tough decisions that came with the mantle of king all day long, THIS was just beyond the pale.

And there was nothing to be done about it but keep watch over Lion-O. Politics could be a right bastard, but the future of the colony was what he had to primarily concern himself with. The cheers echoed from below, and Tygra wondered what the future would bring.

"Come on, Try, eat some more," Fahd said as he watched Tryphon push his admittedly small order about his plate. The Bolkin Bar was somewhat empty at this hour of the day, especially since the crowd at the king's speech was only now breaking up. Lord Claudis, alive! Fahd thought. At the very least, their king had one hell of an advisor on his team. With that settled, he could focus more on Try.

Tryphon was of Wildcat lineage, and was small for his age. At four feet nine inches, and skinny as a rail, he could be mistaken for someone barely in his teenage years even though the other man was well into his twenties. They had met when captured by the forces of Primor, and Fahd had never met anyone who was so much his polar oppostie. Given his size, Tryphon had been the target of some of their worst abuse, but had always fought. No matter what they'd done to him, the smaller man had always fought tooth and nail. It was a wonder they hadn't just killed him for his constant clawing and biting. More than one Mutant had come away bleeding when they'd tried to take him.

"I'm not all that hungry," he replied and the tone of his words told Fahd that he was on the verge of snapping at him. "I could have been at my loom today, but instead you drag me out to see something I could have heard about later then push me into this place to eat when I'm in no real mood. Explain why I keep you around again?"

"I don't need to," Fahd replied in his ever-calm voice. Try didn't respond, but ate a little more anyway. The two men had become... close... since having been freed by the ThunderCats and the two Guyvers. Nothing sexual, and Fahd wouldn't rush him on that, but it was heading that way. Fahd was at a loss as to how to handle that with him. Try had been through so much, and the fact that he was willing to be with him was encouraging, but what to do when that aspect of their relationship emerged?

"Hi," said a male voice from behind. Fahd twisted in his chair to look at him and dry-swallowed in surprise. Sho Fukamachi stood there, a bowl of stew in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Mind if I join you?"

"Um... I don't have a problem with that. Try?" Tryphon's eyes held stunned surprise and guarded suspicion. THIS was something they'd never expected.

"Have a seat," Try said dismissively. Sho merely nodded before sitting down.

"This is a real honor..."

"I'm not here for praise," Sho said before spooning stew into his mouth. "I'm here because I noticed the "Help Wanted" sign in your window." Both of them gaped openly at him.

"Are you asking for a job?" Tryphon asked. His voice carried a slightly incredulous note.

"No," Sho replied. "I want to learn more about the people here, and I can't do that if I'm cooped up in the Lair all day."

"Or blowing up people who want to kill us," Tryphon added.

"Yeah, I tend to do that," Sho replied sheepishly, his left hand behind his head. Fahd thought the gesture somewhat adorable. Try, however, did not.

"And I'm grateful. But what could you possibly know about fabrics? Don't you work in the Lair's forge?"

"I'm just curious is all."

"Well, why don't you come by the... OW!" Fahd jumped when Tryphon's foot smacked into his shin.

"Working a loom isn't something you can learn in a day," Tryphon said testily, "and I don't like an audience."

"I think... ow, that smarts... that Sho just wants to see the product and the people. Right, Vanguard Sho?" Fahd asked, making sure to tack on his title and was surprised when Sho blushed in embarrassment at that.

"Just Sho, please. All my friends call me that." Fahd noticed Try's jaw working as though he were struggling to hold back a sharp comment. No matter how he felt about his... whatever he and Try were at this point... Fahd truly wished he'd smooth his rougher edges a little.

"Fine," Tryphon replied in a tone that was nearly civil. "Fahd will explain what areas are off-limits. Fair enough?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Good." Tryphon rose, his meager meal actually finished for once. "I don't mean to be rude, but we must get back to the shop. Tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning, then," Sho said with a genuine smile despite Tryphon's somewhat rough words.

Aptom stood before the mostly-assembled glass tube in what had once been Dr. Gireg's laboratory. He was in his natural form, as were the Jackal and Simian who had become the most recent parts of him. He had halted his assimilation of the Warhammer's crew to only a small percentage, and quite a few of them were of officer rank. He'd need some raw materials to work with, after all.

Some components were still missing, naturally enough. Gireg's own genetic sequence analyzer was woefully unfit for the task at hand. Also, the chemical agents and genetic peptides needed for the optimzation process were in pitiful supply at this base in China. The Warhammer's other lab facilities were well equipped enough for chemical analysis, but where to find the components for them? He doubted there were many places left to find them, as well.

Aptom snorted as he pulled up the map. He knew where more than a few former Kronos installations were. The trick was to get Ratar-O to check them out without arousing either his or Meliz's suspicions. A Jackal sub-commander whom he'd absorbed had given some knowledge of how many sites Ratar-O knew about. Play it by ear from there? Yes, that seemed best.

It was most annoying that he had to convert the crew himself, rather than have his copies do so. He had yet to regain the strength for that, otherwise this entire crew would be... well... him. Also, without zoanoids to use for real food, he'd starve. All he had to do was find the mother lode. He re-checked a region in the southwestern United States. Yes, Kronos HQ. The main stronghold of Kronos the world over, where the first Relic had been found. It was a... swamp now?! Aptom re-focused on that region. What the hell was a SWAMP doing in what was mostly desert land? And... on top of Kronos Headquarters... The gears in Aptom's mind began to turn. If he was right, then this Baleful Swamp might be just the ticket...

Sho entered the chambers he and Myrlha called their own to find the foyer filled with early evening twilight and no trace of the woman he loved. He shrugged it off, chalking it up to her having had something come up as he made his way to their bedroom and the attached bathroom. He and Bengali had completed Panthro's massive order for armor plating the day before, and no further work orders were in the pipeline. Cheetara had taken over his training sessions entirely while Panthro put the finishing touches on the new ThunderTank, along with a few other projects he had cooking. Cheetara was more ruthless than her former teacher, in Sho's opinion. Just landing the blows hadn't been enough for her, she'd wanted to feel them. To make her point the first time, she'd made sure he'd left with serious bruises. It had been rough going for awhile, but Sho had finally overcome his aversion to seriously fighting her. Their sparring matches, while still furious, were now more or less evenly pitched.

"What's wrong?" he asked on entering the bedroom and finding Myrlha sprawled atop the covers. Her eyes were puffy, bloodshot. "Why've you been...?"

"Sho," she said in a surprisingly even tone as she patted the space to her left. He took the place immediately, his own want for a shower forgotten. "Can I ask you something?" Sho draped his arm about her shoulders and pulled her to him. Myrlha turned her head toward him.

"Anything."

"What if... I mean..." Sho rolled onto his side and eased his other hand onto her hip. Not a sexual touch, he squeezed gently in a gesture of comfort. "Do you want a family?" The question caught him completely off-guard.

"Yeah, someday. Myrlha-chan, what's this about? Are you worried about me being human?"

"What if we... we can't? What then?"

Sho took a deep breath, weighing the situation before him and framing his reply. The mantra of "Don't fuck this up" repeated over and over in his conscious mind as he considered. "Myrlha-chan, never forget that I love you. Okay?" She nodded once. "We won't know if we can have kids of our own without actually trying." Another nod. They'd been keeping sex for when she was off her fertility cycle. Thunderian women, Pumyra had once told him, could only become pregnant during certain times of each month, and just before menstruation. "If we can't, then that won't make you less of a woman to me."

"Sho," she began, "I want YOUR child to grow inside me. It's YOUR baby I really want."

"I know, baby, I know," he replied. "We can't help that we're both from different species. There used to be lots of races of humans on this planet, and damn few of them got along."

"That's not it," she said, her face hardening a little. "The clans of Thundera couldn't interbreed for... for centuries!"

"Hey, that doesn't mean WE can't," Sho said, keeping his voice firm. He softened his expression, smiling in the way she liked. "We might be able to have our own children. I really hope we can. If we can't... well... we'll cross that bridge if we get to it. No matter what, Myrlha-chan, I love you." She leaned forward and kissed him.

"If we can... What about..." Myrlha retreated from him, clearly afraid of broaching this topic.

"What about the Guyver?" Sho asked for her. "I've thought about that. I honestly don't know how it'll affect our child, if it does at all. Myrlha, we can't live in fear."

"If... If we can have children... and if the Guyver..." She began to shake, and Sho held her to him as she cried into his chest. Another curse brought on by the bio-booster armor. He held her, her tears soaking his shirt as she trembled in his arms. It had bothered him from time to time, thinking about any effect his armor would have if they ever had children.

"Somehow, I don't think it will," Sho said. "Yeah, it's a part of me but I don't think..."

"How do you know?!" she demanded.

"Listen to me," he began then cupper her chin in the fingers of his right hand. "The... beings who made the Guyver used it as standard equipment. Remember when I told you about that?" Myrlha nodded. More of the holes in his memory had filled since construction had been completed, and he'd made sure to talk with her as often as he could about what he recalled along with the other ThunderCats. None of it had been of particular use to Pumyra and Siberas, at least in regards to how his armor functioned, but they had welcomed the new facts all the same. "I don't know much about them, and I don't think I ever did, but I'm sure they had to breed somehow and they wouldn't let equipment hamper that. If we have a child, the Guyver won't have any effect on it." She stared at him, her gaze a mixture of appraising and loving. Myrlha smiled after several long moments passed.

"No way to know until we try," she said. "I like that can-do spirit of yours."

"Took a while for me to get that," Sho replied. "Zoanoids could breed, but they were just weapons to the beings who made them, on top of a renewable resource. Just have faith, Myrlha. If we can have kids, we will."

"How about now, then?"

"Huh?"

"C'mon, you KNOW I'm not on my cycle right now, Baka." Sho had been teaching her Japanese during their relationship, and that had been one of her favorite words. Baka. Idiot. She always made it sound so playful. She sniffed about his torso before pulling away. "Yeah, you need a shower." Sho grinned, glad this storm was over for the time being.

"You're more important."

"Still, you really need one." The serious tone was gone, replaced by the playful and flirtatious one he was quite familiar with. "I guess I do, too."

"Myrlha..." Her lips met his, silencing his words.

"Let's not talk, not right now. I could use a shower myself." Her eyes, tormented before, were now smoldering. Sho knew she needed to get her mind away from the thoughts which had been plagueing her, now that she'd gotten her fears out in the open.

They rose from their bed and began to make their way to the shower with tender caresses along the way. They hadn't spoken much about starting a family, due in part to the until now unspoken fears of genetic compatability and feeling nowhere near ready to consider the monumental thought of actually raising a child. The fact that she wanted his child caused his face to turn a bright shade of crimson. He kissed her again as they crossed the threshold into the bathing area and each started removing the other's clothing. Myrlha was right, this wasn't the time for talking or thinking overmuch. At that moment, what they most needed was each other and the love both had to give.

So, I'm the without-a-doubt king now, Lion-O thought, sitting upon what was now officially his throne. The lights of the colony glowed beyond the windows of the Royal Hall and he allowed his eyes to fall upon them while his mind churned. His father had returned, and all the issues concerning rightful succession had been resolved in one go. He had the man's wisdom and experience to call upon should he ever lose his way. He had Cheetara, who would soon be his wife and queen. Tygra was willing to take up the mantle of command as Lord of the ThunderCats. Life in the colony was moving along smoothly. The multiple races which called it home got along well, and crime was non-existent. With no outside enemies who were of any credible threat and each day seeming to go his way, he grew more and more anxious.

If life, and his people's own history, had taught him anything it was that the good times don't roll on forever. Jaga, so long ago, had once told him that without the bad times, no one would appreciate the good times. It had been true, especially in the eyes of a kitten, but he had to look at that much differently now. Over two hundred souls now depended on his leadership and things had, if he were to be completely honest with himself, been far too easy.

The door at the far end of the Royal Hall opened and Cheetara stepped through. He watched her as she stepped easliy along the length of the carpet, the sound of her boots muffled by the thick matting. Her face wore a look of deep concern, as well it should. He had spent the rest of the day in here, after all.

"What's troubling you?" she asked. Lion-O rose to meet her. "Is it Claudis?"

"No. Not entirely."

"The people are going to compare you to him, there's no stopping that..."

"That's not it. I... Don't you think things have gone a little TOO smoothly since we defeated the Mutant Army?"

"It's a refreshing change of pace, but you have a point. Our people and adversity are old bedfellows."

"Maybe I'm being paranoid, maybe it's because I'm king now, but I can't help but think that something's happening out there. Something I... we... ought to know about."

"Has Jaga said anything?"

"No. He doesn't appear to me as often any more. Maybe that's his way of telling me that I'm my own man now and I have to stop leaning on him."

"You're king," she said, taking his hands into hers and running her thumbs along the backs of them, "you HAVE to lean on others. That's what advisors are for."

"Jaga didn't warn me when Mumm-Ra had the Mutants set those individual traps for us, and he couldn't have known for sure if Snarf could have pulled off the rescue he did."

"I remember that." Being bound in mystical bandages in Mumm-Ra's tomb chamber with seemingly no hope of rescue was something none of the ThunderCats who'd been named then would forget. "You're not wrong to be worried. I am, a little. It DOES seem like everything's been in a... what's the Third Earth term?"

"Honeymoon period." What a strange name, he thought absently.

"Yes, but we don't have any proof that anything's going on. You can't keep jumping at shadows, my love. Yes, Mumm-Ra could resurface, but will we know if he does? We didn't last time until the Lunattaks had been unleashed on us."

"Maybe I should enstate a Royal Guard and Royal Intelligence, but with what resources? We're stretched to the limit with what we have now."

"No one said rebuilding our society would be easy. Lion-O." Her hands left his and framed his face. "You can't know or plan for everything."

"Well, I could dispatch Sho to try and gather information..."

"What could he uncover? The best place for him is here. The young man is our biggest gun aside from the Sword of Omens. I hate to talk about him as if he's a weapon, but his power can't be ignored. Especially with Lisker still on the loose."

"You're right," he said before bending down to kiss her. Lion-O pulled back before it could deepen despite the burning in his heart for her.

"You don't have to stop, love."

"But..."

"I know," she said with an impish grin. "Who says making love is the same as sex?" Her gaze met his, and he felt his cares fade slightly. "This isn't about me, it's about you. And, this is something you need. Sit."

Lion-O sat back upon the throne. All he would clearly recall the next day was her mouth enveloping him and all seeming right with the world for a time.

Tryphon stilled his anger at the pony-tailed Tyger fool as he worked alone at his loom. What in the FUCK had he been thinking, inviting the colony's vanguard to his shop?! The shuttle moved back and forth between the threads as he worked, his hands blurs which occaisionally wiped sweat off his brow.

He loved Fahd, and with all his heart though he would not admit it to anyone. Other than Fahd. If he was lucky.

The other man had comforted him, soothed his wounds, even held him when in the grip of a nightmare's aftermath, and had never asked for a thing in return. Fahd always had that gentle smile, even when beaten himself, which he had saved just for him.

Shuttle back, shuttle forth.

The pattern which was gradually emerging on the loom was what had kept him sane during those dark days of bondage and pain. An image, taken from Thundera's own night skies, a sight he had for so long wanted to capture in fabric. His homeworld's night sky, which he would stare at for hours since kittenhood.

Back. Forth.

He had been an apprentice to a master weaver, who had been gentle and kind. She had taught him, guided him through his first clumsy attempts, taught him all he now knew. Until their planet had fucking exploded.

The intervening years were blank, due to his own efforts? Probably. All he clearly remembered was being dragged off his ship with others of his kind, slapped into chains, and abused.

Back. Forth. Back. Forth.

This image, the one he so loved, he'd kept as his shield. No matter what they tried to do to him, no matter what they SUCCEEDED in doing to him, it was always there. They could never take it away, and as such could never break him.

Back. Forth. Back. Forth.

Tryphon still remembered the pattern his master had shown him, the blueprint of stars which he'd kept in his head. No matter what, Primor's men could never take that away from him. No matter...

"Come to bed." Fahd's gentle voice broke him from his reverie. Tryphon looked up to see him leaning over the railing.

"When I'm good and ready."

"Really, Try, it's late. We open early tomorrow. Come to bed."

"Are you THAT eager to have me?" Tryphon regretted the words the second he saw Fahd's face crack. ''I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"I'll be in the guest room." Fahd took his leave, he swishing of his robes the only sound of his departure. Tryphon retuned to work, hoping to drown out the pain he'd caused the man he loved.

One day, he swore to himself. One day, Fahd, I'll love you the way you do me. The way you want me to love you. Until then, please be patient...

The portal opens, and Sho lives a nightmare vision of the future. Can he return to his own time to stop the coming disaster? All this and more in the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	17. Future Imperfect, Part One

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode 17

"So it's done," Mumm-Rana said as she, Jagara, and the spirit of Jaga peered into the scrying pool. Sho lay there on stone exposed to the night, being soaked in rain that fell like Third Earth's own tears. "The future we sent him to..."

"A possible future," Jaga corrected. "There is a chance this will not come to pass."

"There's also a chance that it will," Jagara replied. "Future time can be very tricky to work with. One can't forsee all the variables."

"So long as the important pieces are in place, then our purpose will be served." Mumm-Rana adjusted her cloak about her bandaged frame. "I must admit, though, that this is a drastic measure."

"Also a necessary one," Jagara said. "Sho MUST unlock the rest of his powers, if an outcome similar to this is to be prevented."

"So, this will accomplish your goals?" Jaga asked.

"If not, then it will go a long way towards it," Mumm-Rana replied. "We picked the most favorable future for our aims."

"That is hardly a guarantee."

"When it comes to the future, wise Jaga, there are no guarantees."

"How well I know that."

Sho awoke shivering, chilled to the bone and groggy. He had risen to meet with Tryphon and Fahd again, the short-maned Wildcat and the ponytailed Tyger, when blackness had overcome him. What had happened? Why did everything smell like burnt plastic?

He opened his eyes and stared at the tableaux of devastation with disbelieving eyes. Everything, the entire colony, was destroyed. Nothing but rubble and ruination as far as he could see. The night sky poured acrid-tasting rain down on his skin as he frantically regained his feet and got his bearings.

Sho forced the reeling horror back. Something had happened to the colony, but what? What the hell had he done, slept through it?! What was going on? He shook his head and calmed his thoughts. Blind panic would serve no purpose, but the horrorscape before him made the prospect tempting. Rain fell on the ruined colony as lightning flashed bright violet in the sky and turned the image before him into a snapshot from hell. He reeled backward, his mind fighting to wrap itself around what his eyes saw.

Destroyed, he thought, all destroyed... NO! Sho turned and dashed into the ruin of the door he had just vacated. The room was a shambles, and no sign of Myrlha anywhere. The drumbeat of rain fell to a dull roar. The roof here, at least, had not caved in. Sho stumbled to the wreckage of the sofa and sat heavily upon it unmindful of the scent of decay in the fabric.

"Tygra method," he said between hitching breaths. Stay calm, call no attention to yourself, make your observations until you can draw reasonable conclusions. Sho gazed about the ruins of the chambers he shared with Myrlha and pinched himself as hard and for as long as he could stand.

"An illusion?" he asked aloud. If so, it was a damn convincing one. The cold, the horrible smells, his soaked clothes, all of it was so real. Sho pondered that first of all, ignoring the rising tide of horror. The Guyver protected his mind from psychic assault, so this WASN'T all in his head. If it were an elaborate hologram or whatever, how had whomever put him here gotten him out of the colony, much less Cat's Lair itself? Mumm-Ra was still among the ranks of the deceased who didn't move about on their own.

"If this is somehow real," he began and the thought he'd been fighting not to have rushed closer, "then how the hell did I sleep through the damned apocalypse?" His stomach lurched, and it took all of his will not to dry-heave. Sho ducked his head between his knees and took deep breaths until the urge to vomit passed.

Okay, he told himself, assume this is real. What the hell is that stench?

Burnt plastic, along with odors he couldn't readily identify. Chemical smells. Even what rain which had landed in his mouth had tasted vile. Pollution, and lots of it. The air smelled worse than Tokyo during rush hour.

"We didn't do this," he said, more to hear a voice than anything else. Thundrillium was a rather clean fuel, and the ThunderCats wouldn't despoil the environment like this. There would have been no point at all.

With a few questions answered, hundreds more popped up. One, however, decided it was tired of waiting and leaped into the forefront of his mind. The one he'd refused to ask himself out of sheer terror. Where was Myrlha?

Sho leapt from the remnants of the sofa and dashed toward their bedroom. He shouldered the closed door, then reared back and kicked it. Again and again his foot slammed into the weakened barrier until a dent large enough to get his fingers through appeared in the jamb. Sho strained, demanding all the power he could from his muscles until it slid aside with a screech.

The bed lay desolate, and the smell of mildew nearly made him gag again. No sign of her anywhere. He rused the closet, snatching the door open to reveal both of their selections of clothes hanging in the back, all coated with mold and reeking of neglect. Not here. Sho didn't allow himself to feel the horror which boiled in his gut. He would find her, or find what had happened to her.

The Royal Hall, which he'd only been in once, had been destroyed. The stone pillars lay shattered, their fragments strewn across the floor and the charred remnants of the carpet which led to the now-smashed throne. The windows had long since been shattered, allowing the wind to blow in the polluted rain. The stone floor was heavily stained from what had to have been years of water damage.

Skeletons. Even more in here, several with holes burned into the bones from what had to have been energy weapons. Others had littered the halls of Cat's Lair, some burned, some cut cleanly, others just smashed. Sho staggered at the thought of her, and forced himself to stand upright again.

"I don't have proof that any of them are hers," he said through gritted teeth, "and until I do, NONE OF THEM ARE!" His voice echoed in the Royal Hall. He had to believe that Myrlha was still alive somewhere. He couldn't stand the thought of losing her on top of the colony he'd helped build. Myrlha had to be alive.

He studied the bones, willing himself not to see them coated in her flesh. They were all white. He knew from his biology classes that bones turned yellow when not exposed to sunlight or caustic chemicals. Even unpreserved, flesh didn't just melt away that quickly. These skeletons had been here for years. Killed where they stood, and left to rot. But, by what? What could burn through solid bone, and had the strength to crush it so...

No.

The only anwer to that was all too simple, and all too horrifying.

A Guyver.

"Lisker?" he gasped. Did Lisker do this? But, why? HE was Lisker's enemy, not the colony, and certainly not the ThunderCats. Not even Cheetara, he knew. If it HAD been him, though, why take him out of the equation? The only plausible explanation made no sense. Even if Guyver Two HAD destroyed the colony, why cause so much pollution? Why ruin the planet you wanted to rule, especially if one lacked a way to leave it?

The stench was even worse outside. Though the rain had stopped and the clouds had slowly cleared during his hours of walking, nothing he saw was good. Buildings toppled. Streets littered with rubble and shattered bones. The moon's pale light revealed even more horrors. More carnage that could only have come from a well-equipped army or a Guyver.

Sho left the crumbled ruin of what had been Tryphon and Fahd's shop. The modest structure had been utterly destroyed, merely a pile of shattered stone, wood, and metal. If either of them had been in there, finding out would have involved digging through an insane amount of debris. His mind reeling, Sho said a silent prayer for their souls. The wind had begun to blow, carrying new revolting scents and freezing him through his soaked clothing. Sho walked onward, shivering from the cold without and within when another skeleton caught his eye. He shuffled closer, drawn by the unusual bone structure. After a moment, he realized why it stood out.

It wasn't Thunderian.

It wasn't human.

It was squat, the bones thick though cleaned of flesh and from the pelvis extended the separated bones of what had to have been a tail. The jaw was lined with fangs dulled from years of exposure to the elements and the nasal cavity was narrow to the point of being twin slits. A Mutant skeleton. Sho stood there, staring in horror at the thought of more Mutants on Third Earth. How had they found the planet?! He retraced his steps back several meters, this time paying closer attention to the dessicated remains. More Mutant skeletons leapt out at him from beneath piles of rubble or just strewn in the cluttered streets. A well equipped army, then... Sho whipped his head to the left and found one that was distinctly human and reality turned on its head for the umpeenth time since awakening.

Mutants and humans? Working together? He was the only human who lived in the entire colony, right? Had this been a merchant?

The high-pitched whine alerted him to the fact that he wasn't alone mere seconds before the spotlights hit the soaked ground barely four meters away. His heart in his throat, Sho dashed for cover in time to see a shadow charge past the archway he'd chosen to hide in. The lights found the figure easily and time froze on that moment.

He was malnourished, trembling, clad in rags, and clearly Thunderian. He sheilded his eyes from the dazzling lights when an object slammed into the man's stomach and crumpled him like discarded paper. White-hot rage flared to life, yet Sho remained hidden as the strange platforms settled down to the street. He would see who was attacking...

Sho snarled as they dismounted the railed hovering platforms whose lights were now trained on the shivering Thunderian. He recognized them, all of them. Mutants. Fucking Mutants had come... Sho banished that thought. One of his countrymen was down and surrounded by four enemies. Besides, this was a prime chance to get answers.

"Didn't think any more were left!" the Simian said, and Sho bided his time. They didn't know he was there, and no other engine sounds were drawing near. The Thunderian whimpered in pain and terror, and he moved. Sho's feet slammed into the soaked hardtop loudly enough to get their attention, but the searchlights of their strange machines worked in his favor as he dashed between two Simians and slammed each elbow into their kidneys. He skidded to a stop and turned to face the Mutants, ready to give them more fight than they'd bargained for this night.

"What the hell?" the Scavenger of the party roared. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"

"Hey," Sho said when the Thunderian looked up at him. "Go. I'll buy you some time."

"Not enough," the other Scavenger said as he fingered the club at his hip. "Look at this! A lone HUMAN thinks he can take four Mutants!"

"Hey, GET BACK HERE..."

"HOLD IT, ASSBAG!" Sho roared, drawing their attention back to him. "I'M the one you're gonna deal with. Got it?"

"Nice necklace," one of the Simians chortled, pointing at the Vanguard Amulet on his chest. "Got some balls wearing that. 'Specially since those ThunderCats're dust."

"For your sakes," Sho growled, "that had better not be true."

"Get a load a' THIS shit!" the other Simian hooted. "Who do you think you are, Lisker?"

"So he's not involved," Sho said softly.

"C'mon," the other Scavenger said, "let's have some fun with this one. Since he chased off the cat, right?"

"Yeah," the first Simian agreed. "Not like he's a Guyver or nothin', right?"

"GUYVER!" The armor merged with him, and Sho felt a rush of vengeful glee at the expressions on their faces. "I'll give you one thing: you know how to give a guy a cue."

"It's a trick," the Scavenger said, shivering in fright. "An illusion!"

"Yeah! Lisker's the only Guyver that's given us shit here!"

"Wrong," Sho said simply before dashing toward the speaker. The Simian's head parted from his shoulders when the edge of Sho's palm tore through the flesh and vertebrea. Blood geysered from the severed stump and hand't yet hit the ground before the next one fell to the head beam. A quick punch crushed the skull of the other Simian, leaving only the Scavenger behind. Sho stomped up to him, reveling in the other's fear. It was against the Code to feel that way, but he was long past the point of caring.

"GET BACK!" The Mutant screeched just before tripping on his own feet and falling on his ass. Sho bent down and grasped him about the shoulders, yanking him into the air for his feet to dangle above the street.

"Listen up, asswipe. I have questions, you have answers, and that's why you're still alive."

"Uh... Whaddaya wanna know?"

"Good boy. First, WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED HERE?!"

"Uh... Are you blind?"

"I SEE that my HOME'S been destroyed, I see MUTANTS hunting down my COUNTRYMEN as though they were ANIMALS, and I'LL JUST ASSUME YOU FUCKERS ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL OF IT!"

"It wasn't me! I... I just got here..."

"WHAT. HAPPENED?!" Sho noticed the growing stain on the Scavenger's loincloth. Good. Let him feel some fear.

"It's been like this since I got here!" He could almost smell the Mutant's terror. "We just helped wrap up what Grune started!"

"Grune?!" That one name sent a sensation of cold throughout his entire body. "He's alive?!"

"Large and in charge! C'mon, I'm just followin' orders here!" The sensor medals shifted in their tracks and Sho released the Mutant and leapt skyward in time to see the jade burst of energy fry him where he stood. He'd been careless, letting more of those flying platforms draw near. He fired the head beam, neatly beheading the Mutant pilots of those weird things to let them tumble to the ground and explode in balls of fire.

Grune... That name raced about his brain as he scanned for the Thunderian he'd helped to escape. Grune... How? The sensor medals jerked forward, showing even more of the flying platforms approaching. Someone had set off an alarm somewhere. Sho focused the sensor medals upon the ruins of the colony and spotted the lone bio-signature racing toward the perimeter. For the moment, that young man's safety was his chief concern.

The distance between them vanished as the gravity controller pulled him through the air and the still-falling rain. The falling droplets were chock-full of chemicals stored in the clouds above. Nothing would be nourished by THIS rain, he knew, and it couldn't be all that healthy for anyone caught in it. He saw the young man dashing for his life and dropped down before him. The unknown Thunderian skidded to a stop, and Sho saw just how bad off he was. The poor man probably hadn't eaten in days. They stared at each other across a gulf of polluted rain, and Sho knew he'd seen this one before but couldn't place where. He was shivering from the chill in the air, but also from stark terror. Sho stepped forward, his hands palm-out in a placating gesture. The man took a corresponding step back.

"I won't hurt you." From the amount of reaction, he might as well have said it in Japanese. "Just tell me what happened here." He clearly wanted to bolt, but also seemed to know that it wouldn't do him any good. Fear and resignation both tried to take command of his narrow face. "Was it Grune?" It was an idiotic question, but he had to start somewhere with... "I know you." The realization dawned over him and shed light on what had to have happened. "Darin, right?"

"How do you know my name?" he asked in a voice that was roughly as steady as a plucked string.

"Bengali and Pumyra's son," Sho went on. Finally, he thought, friggin' PROGRESS! "Where are they?"

"Dead," he replied, matter-of-factly. As though it had happened long before, possibly before he'd ever gotten to know them. Sho's heart clenched. "More'll be coming soon." It was obvious what he was referring to. "Who are you?"

"I'm Sho," he said. "I know... knew... your parents." Numbing horror kept his voice strangely neutral. "Where are the others?" Silence. "Look, I saved your life, and I know the ThunderCats..."

"What ThunderCats?" Darin replied bitterly.

"All of them...?"

"No, some're left." He shut his jaw with an audible click.

"Take me to them." A note of command slipped into his voice, something more alien to him than his armor.

"Kill me."

"What?!"

"I won't take you to them. I won't let you ruin what little's left! If I can't get away from you, then kill me and get it over with!"

Despite the tides of horror beating at his sanity, he noticed even more Mutants on those flying platforms coming closer. Having decided that they needed a more quiet venue to speak, Sho dahsed forward, slung Darin over his shoulder, and launched into the sky away from the oncoming Mutants. If nothing else, he had to find a place in which he could get the scrawny young man out of the rain.

The rain finally abated, yet the thick clouds above refused to part even an inch to allow more moonlight to fall. Not that it mattered. Sho was easily able to see the barren and wasted soil below. Nothing grew. No creatures burrowed within the dirt. Stripped of all nutrients, replaced with chemicals and waste. Where a Berbil settlement had once been was a collection of ruined huts. Animals which had once been plentiful were non-existent.

Darin hadn't spoken since their flight began. Sho searched desperately for any sign of life. Human, Wollo, Thunderian, anything other than the Mutants his sensor medals registered. He briefly wondered if this is what their home planet of Plun-Darr was like. If so, no wonder they sought out to subjugate and pillage other worlds!

"Look," he said, rapidly running out of options and patience, "I need to find the others! I have to know what the hell happened here! I'm not here to hurt any of you!" Daring remained silent, and Sho began to get angry. The thing is, he thought, I'm not sure I can help either. Everything was so barren. As if all the vitality of Third Earth had been sucked away to leave a withered husk of a world behind. He remembered environmentalists warning about just such an apocalyptic scenario back in his life on Second Earth. If they only knew, he thought.

A presence at the edge of his sensor range made itself known; a blank space beneath a jagged spire of rock. Sho focused on it. The metal was definitely lead, which explained why his sensor medals couldn't penetrate it. He halted his forward momentum.

He hadn't found much of any sort of metals or ores in the ground on their flight, instead having found several invasive mining tunnels. He took a broader view of the deposit of lead and noticed gaps within it. Gaps made up of straight lines.

There were two things, he knew, that nature abhorred: Vacuums and straight lines. THIS was no natural deposit. Sho began his descent, and Darin's sudden struggles confirmed his hypothesis. Grounded once more, he set Darin down and strode purposefully toward the concealed entrance his eyes picked out. As he neared, two Thunderians emerged from plates of lead to level ion rifles at his chest.

"Hold it," the guard on the left hissed before hesitating. "So, back in our neck of the woods, Lisker?"

"I'm not Lisker," Sho replied, wishing for the clouds to break and let the moonlight reveal him. The two guards immeditely recoiled as though slapped, and a light shone on him from the hands of the one on the right.

"Jaga's cape," the Lynx breathed. "It you. You've finally come back!" The exaltation in his hushed voice caused Sho to become even more confused. "Darin, man, you scored big on this one!"

"I did?"

"Good job bringin' him here!"

"But... I didn't..."

"After all this time," the one on the left said. Sho took a long look at him and nearly froze at the sight. His black hair was mostly gray now, his body lean and thin, but Sho finally recognized the lined face of the Tyger as Fahd.

"Fahd, man, what the fuck is going on here?"

"Quickly, inside!" the Lynx hissed. He banged on the shadowed door three times, backing away as it opened. "Vanguard Sho, Darin, follow us." Sho and Darin did as instructed as two more guards rushed into the blind spots to replace them. Stone steps descended into the darkness which was lit mostly by torches. "We have special orders for if you should come here. Do you remember me?"

"You look familiar..."

"It's me, Lynxran."

"What?!" Sho looked hard at him, seeing the kitten he knew in the thin body of an undernourished man. Sho spared a glance at Fahd, who was not in much better condition. "Fahd, Lynxran..."

"All will be explained," Lynxran said with palpable hope in his voice. "If ANYONE can fix this, it's our Vanguard." Sho ignored him for the time being.

"Fhad, where's Try?"

"In... a better place, I'd think," Fahd replied.

"I know you miss him," Lynxran said. His voice told the tale of having said that numerous time.

"Is anyone going to explain what's happening here?" Sho demanded as they trod the stairs downward to an oaken door. Two more guards stood before it. They opened the door immediately on seeing him.

"Oh, God," Sho muttered. Refugees from all walks of Third Earth life found whatever refuge they could among the earthen corridors. Everyone was emaciated, starving. Every eye was filled to one degree or other with hopelesness. Some looked upon his armored form in anger, as if wondering where the hell he'd been this whole time.

They neared the center of the subterrainian shanty-town, with two figures poring over maps on a table. The first looked up.

"Tygra," Sho said in dismay. His face was lined with wrinkles, his striped mane going grey and a patch over his left eye. The man was haggard beyond belief. The other cloaked figure removed her hood, and Sho's heart stopped.

He could see her in the lines and rags, knew her. He was supremely grateful that she was alive, but the pain in her eyes mixed with the joy... She rushed his armored form and threw her arms about him.

"SHO!" a far-older Myrlha cried. "SHO!"

"I'm here."

"It seems we've finally caught up to you," a far older Tyga said. "About twenty years too late."

What dangers will Sho face in a ruined world? All this and more in the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	18. Future Imperfect, Part Two

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode 18

The smell of unwashed bodies was something Sho was trying to will himself to ignore. It hung in the closed space in a miasma of pure funk, shattered hopes, and despair of a people who had come together only to be destroyed once again. The chamber in which they sat was deep in the catacombs, lit by small oil lamps which threw wildly dancing shadows about the walls.

Tygra, missing eye and all, looked like hell. His clothes were torn and filthy, what wasn't concealed by the dull brown cloak. His once-powerful frame showed the toll of hard years and scarce food. But the intellect behind his one remaining eye was as sharp as ever.

Myrlha, too, wore the look of many ardurous years. There was grey in her waist-length hair, lines about her mouth and eyes, but she still looked lovely to him. The surreal environment he'd awakened in still beat at the walls of his resolve, but seeing her alive bolstered his defenses tremendously.

"I can't believe it's been twenty years," she said, her voice still choked with unshed tears. "I never stopped believing you'd come back." She carressed his cheek, and his placed his hand on hers.

"So, for the obvious question, where did I go?"

"In a sense, nowhere," Tygra replied. "After you vanished, I discovered something I'd always thought to be impossible." Sho shifted his eyes to Tygra, keeping Myrlha's in his and twining their fingers together. "A temporal anomaly, right in what was once Cat's Lair."

"Just outside our quarters," Myrlha added.

"I blacked out, and woke up... what... in the future?"

"Twenty years into the future, to be exact," Tygra said soberly.

"That thing about finally catching up to me..."

"Try to bear with me, Sho. Temporal displacement can get rather complicated."

"As if it's not complicated enough already."

"I spent months studying the anomaly," he began, "and once I determined just what it was, I was certain there was no way to retrieve you. Sho, that anomaly cast you forward in time. For you, it was only an instant. For the rest of us, it was two decades."

"The worst two of our lives, not to mention this planet's," Myrlha said. "I guess you don't need me to tell you that everything's gone to hell in a handbasket."

"Are you the only ThunderCats left?"

"We are," Tygra said, "not that it matters. Sho, first and foremost, don't go blaming yourself for this. None of what happened is your fault. Even if you'd been there, I doubt there was anything you could have done."

"All I know is that Grune's involved."

"Ah, yes," he said, leaning back into his cobbled-together chair and wincing at an ache somewhere. "That one."

"How'd he do all this?"

"Eighteen years ago, we completed a transmitter that would beam a message to other Thunderians scattered in the cosmos to come here. We were concerned, of course, that it might fall into Plun-Darr's hands but as far away as that planet is from this one, we felt it remote at best."

"Let's just say, we were wrong," Myrlha said.

"Over the years, Plun-Darr had managed to create a rudimentary FTL drive. Faster than light, Sho," Tygra said at his confused expression. "They'd been working on it for years, but we'd always thought their chances of success to be non-existent. They came. Thousands of them. But, that wasn't what spelled our downfall."

"Wait," Sho said, raising his free hand. "How could Grune take control of ANOTHER mutant force? Who was backing him this time? Mumm-Ra again?"

"Not who, Sho, but what," Myrlha said. Tygra nodded gravely.

"I don't know how, Sho, but Grune laid hands on bio-booster armor."

"What... the... fuck...?" Sho managed in three gulps of air. "HOW?!"

"I don't know."

Grune. As a Guyver. Grune. As a GUYVER?!

"Only three units existed on this planet. All three were activated."

"Either he found another, or found a way to take one. It doesn't matter. Our people and this planet got raped regardless." The fatalism in Myrlha's words chilled him even further. "It spelled our doom in any event."

"That's why I said what I did. As a Guvyer, Grune is extremely powerful. Even Lisker can barely fight him to a standstill."

Bio-booster armor in the hands of a Thunderian. Of Grune. Sho felt sick to his stomach.

"As I said, Sho, even if you'd been here, you could have done little, if anything."

"I refuse to believe I was sent here just to fail," Sho said, anger burning away the fog in his mind. "All of this must be for a reason."

"What reason? You couldn't have done anything about it then."

"But, maybe he can do something about it now," Myrlha said.

"What?" Tygra shouted. "What can be done now?! This planet is ruined, its eco system is shattered!" Tygra rose from his seat and began to pace back and forth. "No usable farmland! Our hydroponics gardens barely keep us fed!"

"We have the info on Mutant FTL drives, their technology." She was building to something, yet Tygra seemed deaf to it. "The anomaly, Tygra," she explained. "You said it yourself, it's like a tunnel through time, whose ends move through linear time and space the same as we do!"

Sho was at a loss, but Tygra stopped his furious pacing and regarded them both curiously. Slowly, he said, "Myrlha, are you saying what I THINK you're saying?"

"Remember the old saying? 'If I knew then what I know now?' Here's our chance to put that to the test!" Tygra paused, looking back and forth between them.

"You're planning to send me back," Sho said. "If so, it had better be with more than a story to tell."

"I... need some time to think this through."

"Tygra," Myrlha said sharply, "time's the one thing we don't have a lot of right now."

"But," he began, "if this can truly be done, we might have all the time we need." Tygra nodded once. "Myrlha, I think it would be best if you told Sho about all that's happened. I need to think this through. If we're going to attempt this, we have to do it right. We'll only get one shot."

The resivoir stank. A massive lake in a cavern deep below the surface, it rested in a circular basin and reflected the glow of the luminous moss which coated the walls surrounding the rim. Sho had no idea how far down they were, but the ruination of the planet had reached even down here. Sho had acclimated himself to the presence of foul odors in the past hour, but eagerly looked forward to a shower once he returned to his own time. If he could. Myrlha sat next to him, her chin on her knees and arms about her legs as she recounted the tale of the past twenty years.

"Tygra told us it would be impossible to retrieve you," she began, "or tell how far forward in time you'd been thrown. Only that, one day, we'd catch up." She stared out over the flat surface of the resivoir. "Every day, Sho. Every day, I slept in our bed, thinking of you beside me. Missing your warmth. But, I never gave up hope. Even after our downfall." Myrlha sighed heavily.

"The first wave came a year after we sent the signal, after about a thousand of us landed on Third Earth. Grune led them, and he slaughtered our guard force wholesale. Nothing, I mean NOTHING, could hurt him. I was in the Royal Hall when he smashed his way in. The sword..." At this, she broke down into sobs, "it couldn't protect Lion-O. He fell just as he rose to meet Grune. All of them did. Oh, Sho.." Myrlha's sobs began in earnest and he draped his arms abotu her.

"All we'd built. All we'd done, gone in a single night."

"Myrlha..." it was all he could say. His voice was paralyzed by horror and shame at his own absence.

"I don't know how I survived. I woke up, and all of them were dead. The colony was a wreck when I left Cat's Lair. Tygra brought the survivors together, led us into hiding. For all the good it did."

"I still don't get how Grune got a bio-booster unit."

"We don't, either. That's one of the few secrets he bothers to keep." Myrlha's hand fell atop his, and he grasped it. Older or not, she was still his love. "Weapons, propulsion, none of it matters to him. We went after that hoping to find a way to escape this hell. We found it, but we couldn't use it."

"Why not?"

"Sho, he WANTS us to suffer. This became our home planet. What better revenge than to destroy it and watch US slowly die with it? Even I had no idea how sadistic that bastard could be until all this. DAMN HIM!" Her sudden outburst startled him, the fury in her eyes molten. "That's the reason we're all still alive now. Grune just doesn't care."

"I found this place with no trouble. No doubt he knows it as well."

"Exactly. He wants to prolong our suffering as much as he can. Slowly poisoning the planet, leaving us be, it's all an act of torture. Grune wants to see us beg for death before he grants it."

"No way. I'm here, now. I won't let him.." Myrlha grasped his face and forced his eyes to hers.

"Do you think that matters?! LISKER can't defeat him! Human Guyvers aren't a match for Thunderian Guyvers!"

"What about him?" Sho asked, alarmed at the near-hysterical tone of her voice. "What's he doing?" Myrlha's face fell at that.

"Lisker's been around, causing trouble for Grune where he can. Ever since he lost Maria, he's dedicated his life to hassling Grune and the Mutants as much as he can. I don't think he even knows why he's doing it any more. He just keeps on."

Sho leaned back onto his hands at that. "Damn..." It wasn't enough, not nearly, and he knew it. He looked up at the domed roof of the resivoir, the lights reflecting off the water reaching the smooth stone.

"It's still a while until sunrise, such as it is anymore," she said. "I don't think you really want to see more of this shanty town we've been reduced to."

"The Wollos. The Bolkins. Humans. All of the races. Dead." Or close enough to it, he thought bitterly. One man, no matter how powerful, could never turn away an attack on his entire world. Kronos had beaten that lesson into him. Regardless, it made the current situation no easier to accept.

"You still have us. You still have me." He looked at her, seeing the woman he knew in the eyes of the older woman before him.

"I know. Listen, if what Tygra cooks up works, then none of this..." He stopped when her fingertips pressed lightly against his lips.

"That's the idea, baka." She smiled at him, and her face lit up as it had when... Sho chose not to think about the whims of time on this one. "Twenty years. I never forgot you, and I never stopped waiting. Even after all this."

"I..." Sho's throat threatened to seize up on him. What the hell could he say to that? Sorry I wasn't around? Gee, too bad that our world got destroyed and you went two decades without the man you loved who; just MAYBE, could have helped prevent it all? She smiled at him in that patient way she had, the way she always did when trying to stop him from waging war on himself.

"Don't talk. Not now." She removed her fingertips and replaced them with her lips. Sho responded, partly from practice and mostly from love. They parted, and he was surprised to find that he was able to beat the despair back a tiny bit. "You're here now. Maybe you can't do anything in the here and now, but if this works..." She let that trail off as she ran her hands up his arms. "It it works then..." Their lips met before she could finish.

Sho awoke and, on having done so, realized that he was ravenous as well as chilly. He opened his eyes, curious if it was day yet or not. The events of the previous night and the light in the resivoir cavern having changed not a whit had spun his sense of time into a new and unpleasant angle. Myrlha purred against him, and he was suddenly reminded of why he was so chilly.

"Hey," he said, "I think we ougtta get dressed." Their lovemaking had been passionate to the point of being frenzied, at least on Myrlha's part. Sho had fought just to keep up with her.

"I don't wanna let you go," she replied, her eyes begging for a way for this one moment after so much heartbreak and pain to last just a little while longer. Even so, her arms slowly relaxed and they disentangled themselves. Sho let his eyes roam about her naked form as they both donned pants. Just barely, he could see the faint outline of her ribs and the ridge of her spine. Before, those hadn't been even remotely visible.

My people dead, my home destroyed, my lover forced to spend twenty years in hell wondering where I am, he thought. If this doesn't work, then I'll do whatever it takes to kill Grune.

Whatever it takes.

It began as a prickle deep in his subconscious, so far down that he wasn't even aware of its existence. As they dressed, it grew and when they were as presentable as anyone in this ruined future could be, Sho was beginning to form a subliminal awareness of it. Approaching footsteps drew his attention before his conscious mind could make any connection.

"Ah, here you are," Fahd said in his ever-patient tone, though it was more ragged than Sho remembered. "Tygra sent me to fetch you."

"I'll go ahead," Myrlha said. "Fahd can guide you. Sho," she added, taking his hands in hers, "it IS good to see you again. I can't speak for everyone, but I believe in you." With that, she jogged toward the entrance to the resivoir as Fahd stepped beside him.

"So do I," Fahd said as they began their own walk. Sho remained silent as they moved along rough-hewn corridors. People in rags sat or lay wherever they could, some eating, most not. Their gazes were filled with hope, some with hostility, others with pure rage. He couldn't even tell them that it wasn't his fault. For damn sure he couldn't say that he'd fix it. Sho felt he just didn't have the right. "I know you didn't abandon us, and I know that you could have done nothing if you'd been here."

"Fahd..."

"If Try was still alive, he'd be glad to see you again also." Sho found himself doubting that, byt Tryphon was... HAD BEEN... Fahd's lover. Fahd would know better than him. The rest of their trip through the foul-smelling shanty of the catacombs passed in silence. Sho tried not to look at the jackstraw jumbles which were what passed for homes. Mis-matched pieces of stone, corrugated metal, and vaguely opaque plastic which served as doors on those which actually had such ammenities. The children in particular broke his heart. Their eyes were hollow and dead, having known nothing but hunger and deprivation for their short lives. The others he saw lying still with what he surmised to be parents sobbing softly over their unmoving bodies. Sho forced himself to look at them, to let the sight stoke the fires of rage in his heart though he couldn't comfort the ones who wailed over their corpses. All he could do was set this right. One way or the other.

"Tell me you have a plan," Sho said once the door to Tygra's enclosure shut. The man himself sat behind his patchwork desk with scores of datapads littering the surface. Even in these dismal settings, Tygra's personal space was as neat and tidy as Sho had always seen before. The mess on his desk showed that he hand't slept a wink.

"I have a broken people, a ruined planet, an undefeatable enemy, and one hell of a headache," he replied, "but, yes, I also have a plan. I think."

"Don't keep us in suspense," Myrlha said from his right. Tygra consulted a datapad from the pile on his desk.

"Keep in mind, I had to dredge most of my data on the anomaly up from memory." It wasn't necessary to add just how old those memories were. "Ordinarily, I'd never condone something this risky, but at this point what do we have to lose?"

"I prefer to think what this world has to gain," Sho said, and the steel in his voice felt only somewhat strange. Tygra nodded before continuing.

"The anomaly that caused all of this still exists," he began, "but re-opening it might be a problem. The end of it in our own past closed soon after you were pulled through."

"But, it's still there?"

"Hypothetically, yes. My observations show that the ends of this time tunnel move through linear time, but I'm not at all certain of the mechanics of it. Sho, you've been here almost a day, but that is NO guarantee that, if we can somehow re-open the anomaly and send you back, that you'd end up equidistant from the time you left."

"So, even if I CAN go back, it might not be close to the time I left?"

"Sadly, yes. Even if we can re-open it, I have no way of knowing if it will put you far enough back to prevent the transmitter from becoming operational. Even that it won't put you out before you even left is a theory. I'm sorry, but there's no way to really know."

"But, we have to risk it," Myrlha said. "What choice do we have?"

"None," Sho answered in Tygra's stead. "So, how do we re-open the anomaly?"

"That's where everything gets dangerous. Sho, re-opening it will require an enormous amount of energy concentrated on its estimated coordinates. Before you ask," he said with an upraised palm, "The anomaly itself doesn't exist in real space, but rather in imaginary space."

"This isn't my imagination..."

"It's a very vague term. The anomaly exists in our time, but not our space. According to my calculations, a large enough output of energy COULD re-open it, but its actual location will vary. IF the output is large enough, it will draw our end of the anomaly to us. We only have to get it close enough."

"Then I hop through and stop that transmitter."

"Essentially, yes," Tygra allowed, "but I'm afraid I don't know enough to give any guarantees."

"You're willing to try it," Myrlha said. "From our end, time isn't our ally."

"Sounds good so far. So, any ideas on how we make it happen?" Tygra tossed him another datapad, this one showing on its screen a schematic for a warship.

"On that datapad, is all the information we've gathered on Mutant technology of this time. Take it back with you, Sho, give us an option."

"You got it," he said, tucking it at the small of his back.

"This image," he began, and the stained screen at his back showed a diagram of a towering spire, "represents an energy node. The Mutants use these to channel power to their war machines. They've gotten past fuel cells."

"So, why does it look so..."

"It's also Grune's main headquarters," Myrlha said, "though we don't know if he's there."

"Lisker has told us that Grune can completely hide his telepathic signal. On the upside, he can't track Likser, or you, that way when he does. The downside is that no one has seen him in nearly eight years, so there's no telling where he might be."

"Maybe you could get in touch with Lisker?" Myrlha asked. Her eyes were bright with hope that Sho, on a deep level, felt he didn't deserve. He squashed that feeling immediately.

"We have to move fast on this," Sho replied. "The faster we hit, the best chance we have of getting in under Grune's nose and... Tygra, I think this is where you tell me what this plan actually is."

"Agreed," he said with a nod. "Sho, did any Mutants see you when you arrived?"

"None that are in any real shape to tell about it."

"I see." Tygra's eye held a hard look of approval. The display at the rear of the room shifted to reveal the structure in the center of a mass of conduits. The image focued on one, dimmer than the rest. "The best way to approach is through this tunnel. The node relies more on geothermal energy than anything else."

"Like he wants to suck every last drop of life from Third Earth," Sho snarled.

"The geothermal conduit extends from the bottom of the structure," Tygra said, ignoring Sho's statement. "While this conduit channels little power, it is still enough to be lethal should we make a mistake. We'll enter here." At that, the display zoomed in on what appeared to be an access shaft into the main channel. "From there, it's a two kilometer hike to the secondary reactor." The display changed again, to a sub-chamber of Grune's fortress. "Form there, it's a climb up to the control chamber in the upper spire. There SHOULD be enough energy stored to begin the reaction. If not, I think I can siphon enough from the other nodes to force the anomaly to open."

"What about..."

"If it's Mutants you're worried about, don't," Myrlha said. "Grune sent most of them off-world, thinking that the rest of us couldn't be a threat to him. The patrol you wiped out was among the remaining Mutants left to harrass us if we're caught outside these caves."

"We get in, get to the control room, then I go back. So, our only obstacle is Grune. If he's there, I'll buy you time."

"No, if he's there we abort."

"And do what, Tygra?!" Sho shouted. "Hit another one? Think he won't know where we could go?"

"It's this or nothing. We don't have the Eye to protect us now. We can't afford to be too cautious." Myrlha rose from her seat, her hands slamming on his desk. Tygra fixed Sho with his good eye, the look in them grave.

"You have no idea how strong Grune is now," he said in a monotone. "He could kill you." Sho felt the strange presence at the back of his mind peak a little, growing a bit more insistent.

"We don't have a choice. If I have to face him, I will. If I don't, then so much the better. Either way, we have to move now." Tygra stared at him long and hard before his features returned to their withered state.

"Then, we move tonight. May Jaga be with us."

Sho beheld Third Earth as the last rays of the sun fled. The planet now NEEDED the night to cover the hideous blight which covered it. The sun had not once been plainly visible, its light filtered through greenish-purple clouds of pollution in the upper atmosphere. The blight he had seen through the eyes of the Guyver seemed even more stark when unenhanced. The soil was bleached white from countless acid rains, loose and nearly dust. Their footsteps kicked up clouds of dead earth with each step toward the access tunnel. Even so, it was still an easier sight to take than the caverns in which the Thunderian people now barely lived.

The spent the remainder of the foul-smelling day in the shade of a stone outcropping, breathing through their shirts as much as they could while waiting away the heat which the densely damaged atmospere would not allow to escape. The entrance to the conduit remained unguarded, though Sho kept his senses alert for any Mutants who came nearby. None did.

"I WILL set this right," he said when Myrlha knelt by his side.

"You should be sleeping."

"So should you."

"I don't think any of us will for awhile."

"I know. I still love you."

"I know, Sho. I love you, too."

"To do something like this," he said as the faint light of the sun set. "How can anyone hate so much?"

"That doesn't matter now."

Darkness descended quickly, mercifully hiding the wasteland Third Earth had become. The trek through the wasteland that had once been the Plains of Fertility passed silently, all three darting between sparse cover toward the deep trench carved into the ground. Loose dirt slid around their feet as they slid toward the bottom and off of the horizon which Mutant scouts would hunt for any Thunderians out and about.

"Darin's such a hardhead," Myrlha whispered, her voice the only sound aside from shifting dirt and raining pebbles. "I told him about his parents as he grew up, and it's so hard to keep him out of the ruins sometimes."

"You and Tygra raised him?"

"Among others." Myrlha didn't offer to elaborate and Sho didn't press her. The bottom of the trench announced its arrival with solid earth suddenly meeting their feet. Walls stretched up into the inky darkness, as perfect as any abyss. At the fore, Tygra engaged a small flashlight with which he illuminated the protruding end of a tunnel.

"Maintenance access," he whispered, immediately dousing the light. "It hasn't been used in years."

"Why leave it unguarded?"

"Why would Grune care?" Tygra said. "It's not like any of us could challenge him. It's just another way of rubbing our noses in how far we've fallen." They made the entrance just before the scouring rains began again and Sho was grateful not to have experienced it with bare skin. Tygra shone his light freely, exposing lengths of thick cable fastened to the walls with various junction boxes scattered almost haphazardly about.

"There's no chance of Mutants finding us down here," Myrlha said. "They never enter these tunnels. Damn supersitious lot." Other than their echoing voices and footsteps, the silence was nearly absolute.

"Just how much trouble is Lisker causing him, anyway?" Sho asked once the silence grew nearly overbearing.

"We have no idea anymore," Myrlha answered. "We do know that the Mutants won't challenge him. They're not THAT stupid."

"Unfortunately," Tygra added, "we also have no idea where he is. Like you said, Sho, we have to move swiftly, so we can't afford to wait for him." The tone of his voice made it clear. This plan Must Not Fail. The hike fell into silence once more, filled with tension and fear. The maintenance access led to an even wider tunnel intersecting its path with a massive conduit suspended in the center of the cylindrical space by a spaced series or brackets which stretched from the conduit to the outer walls. They moved lightly between them, careful not to touch either the conduit or the thin poles holding it in place. As they marced, Sho became gradually aware of the presence in his subconscious. A nagging, tickling feeling that he ignored and wrote off to nerves as they neared their destination. Tygra called a halt, shining his light on a series of dull metal rungs speared into a curved recess in the wall.

"We're here, huh?"

"This ladder will lead us into the ground level of Grune's Spire," Myrlha said.

"Right into Grune's Throne Room," Tygra spat. "I have to warn you, Sho, you won't like what you're about to see."

"Hell, I haven't liked anything I've seen so far in this future. What's one more?"

"There's that," Tygra agreed before starting up the rungs. Sho followed with Myrlha just behind. The climb toward the surface seemed to last forever, his muscles beginning to burn from the effort combined with little food and the poor air quality. He heard the grating sound of something being moved aside overhead then light bathed the upper part of the narrow shaft.

Sho wanted to vomit at the sight.

The space took up what seemed to be the entire ground floor. Said floor having been tiled in gleaming gold. A myriad of pillars stretched from floor to high domed ceiling yet a series of much shorter statues lined up on each side of a stretch of wine-colored carpet drew his gaze. The ThunderCats, or their stone likenesses, each kneeling in supplication toward a throne whose jewel-encrusted surface went far past ostentatious. Grune, however, was nowhere in sight.

"So far so good," Myrlha whispered just as Sho tensed. Hurriedly, he removed the data pad from the waist of his pants and shoved it into her hands.

"Get going!" he hissed just as a familiar voice rang out.

"Well, well, well," Grune said as he stepped into view from behind his throne. The arm which Lisker had severed at the Battle of Fortress Plun-Darr was in place as though it had never left him along with another sabre tooth in his mouth. Grune smiled at them from across the expanse of the chamber, as if he were welcoming old friends. "Tygra. Lord of the ThunderCats." Every word dripped with condescencion and disdain. "And Myrlha, too! Forgive me for saying so, but the years haven't been kind to you."

"Tygra, Mylrha, GO!" Sho shouted. Rage exploded in his heart at the sight of one who, by all rights, should have died with the original Mutant Army. Neither Thunderian argued as they dashed off to where they needed to be. "It's you and me, Grune!"

"No, it's just me," he said with a soft chuckle. "The legendary Guyver One. Sho Fukamachi his own self. It's an honor to meet you again." The presence of Grune's mind vanished from his own, and Sho gave no outward sign of relief.

"How did you do it?" They remained in place, staring each other down from opposite ends of the red carpet. Sho could feel no trace of Grune, but that mattered little.

"Sorry. State secret."

"My ASS!"

"It's gonna be your ass, rest assured on that." Grune stretched languidly, yet their eyes never left one another. "Where DID you run off to? I steamrolled your entire colony, slaughtered hundreds of the people you adopted as your own, and yet you were nowhere to be seen."

"I'm here now."

"Oh, yes. Yes, you are. I only hope you can provide me with some amusement. It's been rather lacking around here of late."

"Cocky bastard!"

"I'm not cocky, boy, I'm convinced." Grune took a step forward, then another, each slow and measured. "So, why come here?"

"Go fuck yourself!"

"I fucked Lion-O's bride to be. She wasn't at all willing, but it was all the better because of it."

Sho bristeled, yet kept his composure. Whatever Grune was aiming for, he would make sure the Thunderian tyrant missed.

"Really? Nothing to that? I must admit, Panthro trained you well."

"You're about to find out how well!" Grune's laugher echoed in the space of his throne room.

"Oh, yes, I expect I am! So, let's dispense with the pleasantries. BIO-BOOST!" The air shattered as the forcefield appeared about him. Grune smiled as the armor merged with him to finish with a final flare. His form was enormous, black armor over red tentacular organics. The gravity orb was on his waist, paired on each side by a sphere of jade and the same mineral appearing atop his knuckeles. The traditional fin arced from his head, with two more on each side just above the sensor medals. The blades on his arms pointed forward rather than backward. The rest of the Guyver's weaqpns appeared intact, aside from spikes extending from the armor's own sabre teeth to end in vents which expulsed the pullotion in the air. Grune's overall form seemed maddeningly familiar, and the presence began to call to his subcoscious again. Sho pushed it away.

"GUYVER!" His own armor merged with him with the rush of power it always brought. They glared at each other, each standing in the craters their transformations had created in the gleaming floor. Grune stood relaxed and confident, while Sho fought down a wave of nervousness.

"Well, come at me, boy!"

Sho eagerly obliged. The distance between them vanished in an instant and a short jab landed on Grune's jaw as the pressure cannon reached peak charge. He rammed the orb upward into Grune's stomach and the detonation launched him upward with a stunned grunt. Sho's anxiety evaporated as he followed Grune upward and rained a hail of punches and kicks down on his opponent's vulnerable body. A final burst from the pressure cannon smashed into Grune's torso and sent him streaking to the floor...

When Grune's fall halted.

The Thunderian Guyver floated a meter above his throne, chuckling at the effort Sho had spent in pounding him.

"Yes," he said, "Panthro DID teach you well. And your rage lends you strength. Those blows ALMOST hurt!"

"Oh God..." He hadn't held anything back, and Grune had taken all that punishment without batting an eye. Sho hovered in place, his mind reeling as he sought other options.

"I haven't had such fun in so long," Grune said. "Lisker's been such a bore lately. Why don't we keep up the game, hmm? I'll even give you another free shot!"

The gravity controller snatched him down at an angle, leg extended and aimed at Grune's head. Quicker than Sho could follow, Grune's right hand caught his foot just short of impact.

"FAIL!"

Sho ignored him as he fired the head beam into the domed ceiling, drilling the concentrated heat into the stone and the steel piping above. In a shower of dust, sparks, and brief flames enormous chunks of masonry and debris came raining down as Sho wrenched his foot free of the crushing grip and sailed clear of the impact zone.

Grune's arms were little more than blurs as the sonic swords on his forearms neatly sliced each piece of falling rubble. The floor shook from the impacts, cracks appearing on its once immaculate surface, and not one piece landed on the intended target.

Tygra staggered as the floor shook once again and the muted rumbling vibrated up the length of his legs. He didn't let himself slow, demanding more and more from his body as he and Myrlha charged through the corridor which was now only itermittently lit.

"Those two're gonna bring the whole tower down on us!" she exclaimed as they ran through drifting clouds of dust.

Tygra remained silent, focused almost exclusively on the task at hand. If they failed, then all else was moot.

Sho leapt clear of the quartet of gravity bombs, yet the explosion which blew out nearly the entire south wall still knocked him off balance. He landed awkwardly and only barely managed to duck beneath Grune's own head beam.

The walls, the pillars, the entire chamber was in ruins and the bulk of the damage had been caused by the other Guyver. Pillars lay smashed and cut, craters lined the floor, and the air was thick with dust and smoke. Grune still stood before his throne, having barely needed to move in order to keep Sho on the defensive.

He's gotta be getting tired by now, Sho thought desperately. Grune lowered his arms, the tips of his blades nearly reaching his feet. The bastard wasn't even breathing hard. Sho charged forward and grasped one of the still-intact statues by the base before whirling about and hurtling it with as much force as he could muster.

The stone carving seemed to leap apart as one of Grune's blades bisected it. The two halves fell to the floor to shatter into jagged shards.

"Silly human," Grune said, "that trick is for children!"

Nearing exhaustion, Sho leapt aside as the orbs on Grune's face began to vibrate, yet not quickly enough. The acutely focused burst of sonic waves impacted his right arm just below the elbow. He howled in agony as the limb literally exploded in a shower of blood and tissue.

Sho fell to his knees and rolled upright again, fighting past the pain and the loss of blood which was already slowing down.


	19. Future Imperfect, Part Three

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode Nineteen

The Spire's main control center called to Tygra's mind the image of Cat's Lair as it had been in life. The air seemed to thrum with the hushed sounds of computers monitoring the systems of the structure that, with its brothers, had drained the very life of the planet. He banished the thoughts with some difficulty as he and Myrlha accessed the main console. Being in such a clean space - no dust, filth, or grime anywhere - was something he had forgotten he'd even missed.

"Running scan," Myrlha said from his right as the image of the former colony coalesced on the monitor. "I think I have it!"

"Yes," Tygra said after reviewing the data. "The anomaly is still there. Now, let's..." The scream with burst from the recessed speakers brought them both up short. In the upper right section of the screen the image changed to a view from the security systems. Sho was on his knees, blood pumping from the stump of his severed arm. Grune, transformed, stood laughing at the other Guyver. Tygra's heart sank at the sight.

"Sho..." Myrlha's voice was a choked sob as the man she loved rose to his feet once more.

"We have to focus!" Tygra snapped. "We can't help him now!"

Growing. The tingle at the rear of his consciousness increased second by second. Sho had no idea what it was, what it meant, and the pain in his arm kept trying to overwhelm it, along with the certainty that he was outmatched. There was no way he could win, not against a monster like this. He rose, snarling at Grune. He would not give in. Sho let rage replace fear, hatred replace pain.

"Still got some fight in you?" Grune asked, amused at his suffering. "I'm duly impressed. Lisker would have run off to lick his wounds by now. But then, he doesn't have friends," he spat the word, "that he thinks he can protect."

"You... won't hurt them..."

"Oh, on the contrary. I WILL hurt them. Very much. And very slowly. I mean, to have the audacity to break into my own home!"

"How could you do this?" Sho asked in an effort to buy Tygra and Myrlha time.

"I suppose you're hoping for some grand monologue of my life," Grune began, "But there is little point. I've learned many truths over the years."

"Like?"

"Might makes right. It always does. You and I, Sho, we are little different."

"How do you figure?" Grune took a step towards him,then another.

"Might makes right," he said, sweeping his arms about the ruined throne room. "Those who can fight for what they want, take what they want. I did."

"THERE!" Tygra shotued as he made the final connections and the power built. Damage alerts immediately flared on teh monitors as his fingers flew over the keys. "No. NO!"

"What is it?"

"It's bad, Myrlha," he explained. "The Spire's systems were damaged from that fight. We can open the anomaly, but only for a few minutes. Once we do..."

"The Spire will expode," Myrlha finished.

"There might be enough time. Now, Sho just needs to get away from that bastard..."

"What you did isn't right. It's MURDER!"

"I could say the same for you."

"WHAT?!"

"Think about it," Grune took another step closer, every inch of him bragging over what he had done. "Those who are strong fight for their ideal world. You fought for yours, I fought for ThunderCats fought for it, and they lost. Just like you."

"I havent't lost yet!"

"Oh, there it is. That famous optimism. 'I'm the good guy, I'm gonna win!' What a load of SHIT!" Grune rocked back on his heels from a fit of laughter. "You and yours won the Mutant War because you had the might to back up your beliefs. I won because I had the might to back up mine. It's all about power. Codes of conduct and ethics make the weak feel more secure in life, but power is all. I think, since you're now lacking an arm, you see my point."

"Shut... !" Blood welled up in his throat when, quicker than he could respond, Grune closed the distance between them and one of the vibrating blades sank into him. The tip emerged from his back, dripping the same red as the flow from the exhaust vents. The pain faded slightly once Grune slid the blade out, leaving Sho to crumple on the floor in a quivering heap.

"Bas... tard..." Sho fought for all he was worth past the pain and rose a few inches before his flagging strength proved insufficient to the task. The Guyver was healing him, but not fast enough, damnit! "How can you call this an ideal world?" His words were choked, and blood spattered onto the floor with each one, but if he could keep Grune talking long enough...

"I'm nigh invincible, and my enemies are suffering beneath my heel. It may not be Thundera, but I'll take it. Oh, don't think I'll stop here. I know there are others out there. Little pockets of survivors dotted about. I'll find them, then do it all over again. I won't stop with being the mightiest Thunderian to ever live." Grune, who had been pacing back and forth during his rant, stopped before Sho and fixed him with his gaze. "I'll be the last."

"No..." Sho struggled to his feet, the wound in his abdomen nearly sealed. "No..." He raised his remaining arm, though exhaustion and agony were battling to bring him back to the floor. Rage, pure and clean and white-hot, filled his blood. "This ends here, Grune! HERE AND NOW!"

"Prophetic words, boy."

The air was suddenly filled with an intense energy as the white beams smashed down on Grune from above. Sho leapt back, agape as the megasmasher beam faded. Grune was nowhere in sight, a massive hole baving been blasted into the spot where he'd stood. Through the raining dust, the golden armored form of Lisker floated down into the chamber.

"Never thought I'd be glad to see you," Sho said as he staggered forward.

"Save it, that blast won't keep him down long."

"I guess I don't need to ask how you knew I was here."

"That's right, you don't." Lisker landed between him and the smoldering hole. "Get moving, kid. If you can stop this nightmare from happening, do it." He turned and walked to the glowing rim of the chasm. "I'll buy you some time."

"Lisker. Thanks."

"Just go." Lisker stepped into space and the gravity controller eased him down into the depths. Sho began to run unsteadily in the direction Tygra and Myrlha had taken before.

"SHO!" Myrlha cried on seeing his battered armor and the stump where his arm had been.

"I hate to say I told you so," Tygra added without looking up from his readouts.

"You just did. Is it ready..." The floor vioently shook, sending all three off balance. Lisker and Grune, it seemed, had gotten started.

"It's ready, but with all the damage this place has taken, we can only keep the anomaly open for five minutes." Tygra turned, his one eye burning. "Do you have enough power to cover the distance in time?"

"I have to. It's that simple." Tygra regarded him gravely for a moment before handing over the datapad. "It's all up to you now."

"Sho," Myrlha said as he turned to leave. Tears fell down her cheeks, though a smile was on her face. "It kinda feels like I'm losing you all over again."

"We'll see each other again, Myrlha."

"I hate to interrupt, but we're on a schedule here!"

Sho nodded to the both of them before leaving.

The spire was glowing from the energy roaring through it, sedning off minature bolts of lightning as the power built to a climax. From its tip, a brilliant stream lanced into the polluted night to vanish into a point of nothingness as the anomaly began to re-open. Clutching the datapad against his chest, Sho flew along the length of the beam. Each time his rate of movement tried to decrease, he demanded even more from the Guyver and his own dwindling reserves. Only raw determination fueled his flight near the half-way point.

In a flare that lit up the area for miles around, the spire exploded. The blast wave shoved him forward even faster. His sensor medals registered the anomaly as an unknown space which was now rapidly shrinking without the power feed dumping energy into it. He ignored all else, focused the entirety of his will and being into reaching the void in front of him...

"Experiment 33," Tygra said into his recorder. The corridor seemed completely innocuous, yet everyone gave one spot in particular as wide a berth as the floorspace allowed. "If my hypothesis is correct, the singularity into which Sho vanished is in fact a sort of temporal waypoint between one era of time and another. My findings so far indicate that, if this is true, the singularty's opposite end exists in the same space but in an unknown future time."

"A friggin' time hole," Panthro snarled as he consulted the scanning equipment that had been manhandled into place. "Exactly how can something like that exist?!"

"I'm no expert on quantum mechanics..." Tygra's words trailed away as the air in the corridor began to stir then violently blow about. "EVERYONE OUT! NOW!" No one was reluctant to obey as the anomaly grew from a single point to a gaping hole in spacetime. The blueish-green blur that raced out of its depths slammed into the curving wall hard enough to leave a sizeable dent in the stone. Sho stood embedded in the wall, panting heavily and shivering all over.

"Sho... JAGA'S BEARD!" Panthro exclaimed on seeing the stump of hsi arm and the full damage hsi armor had taken. "What the hell happened?!" Sho lucrched forward, thrusting a datapad into Tygra's hands.

"Transmitter..." he gasped.

"What?"

"TRANSMITTER!" he roared, making Tygra teke a step back.


	20. With Knowledge Comes

ThunderCats

Bio-Boster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode 20

"Sho has fully recovered," Siberias said as council convened. The early morning sunlight shone through the windows of the Council Chamber, whose round table all the ThunderCats sat about. Lion-O sat at the head of said table, crown in place and cape upon his shoulders. Along with the worries of the future. "His arm fully regenerated last night. The Guyver left him, and he's in a deep sleep."

"Myrlha's with him," he said more to fill the air than anything else. Everyone present knew where she would be. "She's safe?"

"The armor dis-engaged just before he finally passed out," Pumyra explained. "I forsee no danger."

"On THAT front," Torr offered. "If this datapadd he brought back can be trusted, we have a SHITLOAD of other things to worry about!"

"Panthro," Lion-O said, "you've had time to review those schematics. What are your thoughts?"

"They scare the hell out of me," he replied matter-of-factly.

"The fact that they exist or that they might work?" Bengali asked.

"Both, and there's no might about it. Also, these aren't for prototype engines. The designs are too refined to be early works."

"So, Plun-Darr could have this technology now?"

"The beginnings of it at the very least, Laheela." He turned his gaze back to Lion-O. "If we get started now, we could have this before Plun-Darr could fully develop it."

"Father," he said, still unable to use Claudis' given name even on official and most urgent business, "did R.I. have anything on a Mutant FTL program?"

"No," the wizened man replied, "but clearly they were working on it. Since our own research into that field was proving to be a money pit, we simply assumed that any Mutant research would bear as little fruit. As your mother used to say sometimes, 'Look who's wrong'."

"So," Cheetara added, "we're going on the assumption that the events described in this datapadd could come to pass?" Nods met her question. "Then I think we should focus on how we can prevent them."

"Aren't we doing that now?" WilyKat asked. "I mean, just having this Council session is changing the way things play out, right?"

"But, to what extent?" Lynx-O replied. "Clearly, more than talk is necessary. Halting construction of the transmitter was a positive step toward averting this future, but I doubt it is enough alone."

"Let's cut to the quick here," WilyKit said. "Grune." Silence fell at that.

"Pumyra," Lion-O said, "what are the chances that Grune survived Fortress Plun-Darr, disregarding the information we now have?"

"The loss of his arm wouldn't help," she said at once, "especially in an environment as harsh as Third Earth's. What he would have to worry about most is an infection setting in."

"Go on."

"The Guyver's head beam is the most intensely powerful compact laser I've ever seen. Grune's stump was cauterized, which would prevent death by blood loss, but the risk of infection is sky-high. Unless he could keep it bandaged and dis-infected, any number of local bugs could kill him."

"So if he still lives," Tygra added, "he had help. The question is, from whom?"

"Or what," Lion-O said, thinking of Mumm-Ra. "Could some medical supplies have survived that battle?"

"Possibly," Kyrana said. "Or, what passed for medical supplies on those ships. Mutants aren't well known for achievements in the healing arts. Most of what Primor had was what he could steal, nevermind if anyone on-board knew how to use them properly."

"It was, all told, a very mixed bag," Siberias said. "At least, what little I saw of it. Sneaking medicines into the slave pens was always difficult at best." Nothing needed to be said about how they'd had to do it. Lion-O noticed the shudder that Laheela had barely managed to suppress.

"If we're thinking that bastard's still kicking," Torr added, "then we gotta assume that bit about him getting a Guyver unit could happen."

"The way forward is clear," Claudis added, "Grune must be decisively dealt with before that comes to pass."

"Just gotta search a whole continent for him at the very least," Bengali replied. "And just how can he get one? Sho's told us over and over that there were only three."

"And that one had been destroyed, but apparently that one was able to repair itself, complete with Lisker," Tygra said.

"What're the odds Sho's lyin' about that?" Torr's question dragged the conversation to a halt. "I mean, I don't know the guy that well."

"Sho's talents as a liar are on par with the average Bolkin," Panthro said. "He couldn't tell a convincing lie if you put a pistol to his head."

"However," Lynx-O mused, "he has also told us that his memory is not fully restored. It is conceivable that information on a fourth unit is within that lost area of his mind."

"Or," Cheetara said, "there could be others he has no knowledge of."

"Our resources aren't unlimited," Lion-O began, "searching the length and breadth of this continent for one man will be as difficult as looking for an ancient artifact that might not even exist. I move we put finding Grune as our priority rather than more Guyver Units." Jaga knows, he thought, we don't need any to fall into the wrong hands.

"Then the question becomes, what do we do with him?" Tygra asked. "We must not lose sight of the Code."

"Grune's crimes since his return to the mortal coil are sufficient for him to be arrested and tried," Claudis replied. "Legally speaking, we are entirely within our rights to follow this course of action."

"And, after he is found guilty?" Tygra asked in retort. The outcome of any inquiry would be obvious. "Capital punishment was outlawed on Thundera generations ago."

"Let's decide what to do with Grune after we've detained him." Lion-O had seen the storm brewing between the two men, and didn't want this to devolve into an arguement. Clear thinking was needed far more than heated words. Tygra and Claudis nodded in agreement, much to his relief. "Now, I wish to pose a question." Though he was king, he was unused to being fully in command. Part of him wondered if that was a good thing. "Should we allow Sho to take part in this?"

"What do you mean?" Pumyra asked, clearly puzzled.

"I think what Lord Lion-O means," Tygra said, "is that while Sho follows our laws and ways, he is NOT Thunderian."

"Let's not forget about being able to turn into a one-man army," Laheela added.

"Indeed," he agreed. "Sho has changed since we first met him. He might not be able to hold himself back from killing Grune on sight. What I mean to say," he added quickly, "is that he is very protective. Sho has no qualms killing in the name of defense."

"None of us do," Panthro said.

"But, actually hunting Grune down? I'm not at all sure how he'd deal with that."

"Keep going."

"Well, Majesty, he'll either question why he's hunting someone down or he'll do so with rather unhealthy zeal. Either way, I don't think Sho should be in on it. This is a matter best handled internally."

"We could out-source it."

"Torr?"

"Sho isn't the only Guyver on Third Earth."

"No," Lion-O said. "That might lead to us having to fully explain the data we now have."

"And which we must keep classified," Claudis said.

"I agree," Laheela spoke up. "My lord, the people of New Thundera Colony have suffered greatly since the loss of our homeworld. Even though we're now free, and a people once more, many are waiting for the other shoe to drop. If they learn that Grune still lives, and might gain the kind of power Sho has..."

"It'll be panic in the streets," Claudis finished.

Darkness everywhere, warm as the womb in which he'd been conceived. Sho floated in that darkness, yet was drawn to something. Something he wanted, yet feared. Something, out there, something he needed desperately yet remained out of his sight.

"What are you?!" he screamed into the blackness. A shape resolved from the inky depths, outlined by a light that came from no souce he could indentify. Its shape was ovoid, and bursting with light from within.

The light erupted around him, focusing to a spot overhead as the softness of the bed made itself known, along with the fingers intwined in his. Sho fully opened his eyes to find the Medical Wing to be his current residence and the fingers twined in his to be Myrlha's.

"You're awake!" she cried before kissing him. "Oh, I was SO worried!"

"I'm back now," he said weakly. Myrlhas fingers clenched over his as she embraced him. Sho returned the best he was able. "Before you ask, I feel like hell."

"At least you can still feel," she said as a single tear fell from her right eye to splash against his cheek.

"Hey, no waterworks," he said as he brushed more tears from her eyes with the thumb of his free hand. "Has everyone seen the datapadd I brought back?"

"Yes." The shiver which ran through her translated into his own supine body. "It... I can't begin to describe it."

"I was there, and I can't."

"So, I was there, huh?" she asked, turning playful. Sho understood. The horrors on that datapadd would take time to fully contemplate and there was no sense in spoiling their reunion. If a reunion it was. Time travel, he reflected, really made semantics a challenge.

"And every bit as beautiful as you are now."

"Well, I suppose it wasn't cheating."

"Huh?"

"There was a message on that datapadd which had been flagged for me," Myrlha said as Sho made as much room for her as he could on the narrow bed. She snuggled against him, a finger tracing patterns on his chest. "She, that is, I... The OTHER me told me about what had happened."

"Oh. Yeah."

"She also told me about spending twenty years without you, wondering what had happened, all the tragedy that had fallen on us. Know what she said in the end?"

"What?"

"To never let you go. That you're the love of BOTH our lives." Sho remained silent, unable to form a response to that. "Even if the life she led won't happen now." They lay there, each absorbed in their thoughts. "How strong was he?"

"Too damn strong," Sho said truthfully.

"Panthro," Lion-O said as the Council session was winding down to decision time, "you and Tygra consult these schematics. Try to determine if we can make these engines with our current technology and resources."

"Not gonna be easy," Panthro replied with a shake of his head. "These things violate all the known laws of motion. I didn't say it was impossible," he added quickly before Lion-O could protest. "We're gonna have to re-learn physics to understand how these work."

"You're our resident miracle-worker," Cheetara said. The tense mood eased somewhat at that.

"Bengali," Tygra said, "I think we're going to need new alloys developed for ship hulls."

"Fine with me," he said with a shrug. "I was never one to turn down a challenge. But, I won't let this cut too deep into my time with Pumyra and Darin."

"I wouldn't ask that of you," Lion-O said. "We all trust your ability and ingenuity."

"Gives me something to think about when changing diapers."

"Don't get too distracted," Pumyra taunted. "I don't want to come home to find our son with a daiper on his head." Chuckles rumbled around the table.

"I'm sure Snarf would be happy to help in any way you need," Lion-O said with a grin. "Next, how to hunt for Grune. The only lead we have right now is the ruins of Fortress Plun-Darr. Cheetara, you'll head up the search."

"Understood."

"Siberias, Kyranna, Torr, Laheela, all of you will accompany her. You knew the layout of the underground areas."

"What of Myrlha?" Kyranna asked. "She memorized the plans."

"But, she didn't help build it for very long before her escape. In the end, her knowledge of those plans hadn't played into our assault. Besides," he said with a shrug," I don't want to separate her and Sho so soon after they've reunited."

"I see," Siberias replied. "You wish us to depart at once?"

"Yes. Since you won't be escorting Gomplins loaded down with Tuska soldiers, the Feliner should be able to make the journey far more quickly."

"True," Panthro agreed. "Just take a change of Thundrillium modules."

"Take camping gear, just in case."

"If there is nothing else? Council is adjourned, then."

The Depot smelled of lubricants and grease within its enclosed space. In the center of the main hangar sat the mostly assembled ThunderTank with patches of shaped plating stacked in preparation for assembly and welding over the exposed wiring and pneumatic systems. Tools hung from their racks in neat soldierly rows, awaiting their next use. Panthro breathed it in as he beheld engineering on a level even he had never dreamed possible. How had those bastards done it?! He and Tygra stood before the enormous monitor of the Depot's main computer, staring up at various portions of engine designs as the system highlighted them.

"A matter/anti-matter collider," Panthro said in muted astonishment. "Jaga's ass, if ANYTHING went wrong in the reaction chamber..."

"The chamber itself is a perfect sphere," Tygra added. "Tolerances of less than a micron. The matter/anti-matter ratio, however is constant."

"One to one," he replied. No matter how fast the reaction happened, the ratio was always that. "Some of these," he said as the diagram pulled back, "must be particle regulators. Damnit, how did Plun-Darr BUILD this thing?"

"What was it you used to say?" Tygra asked. "The sun shines on a rat's ass once in a while?"

"I hate to think how close they might be to this," Panthro muttered. "I think I get how it's supposed to work."

"The ship," Tygra began, "rides a wave of warped space." It was more like a bubble, both knew. "The warped space field ITSELF is what achieves FTL, carrying the ship with it."

"The more intense the field, the faster it goes. But, the hull stress has to be enormous! That field CAN'T work in only one direction!"

"You said it yourself. It's time to re-learn physics."

"At lest we've got the professor's notes."

The trip had been uneventful. Cheetara sat in the Feliner's main pilot seat, guiding the ship through the air currents. Without the weight of supplies and the ThunderStrike, they had been able to achieve optimum altitude for fuel use and make far greater speed. They dropped beneath the clouds over the ruination of Fortress Plun-Darr just as the sun was still somewhat high over this stretch of land. From above, the devestation was impressive.

From the ground, they discovered some minutes later, it was horrifying.

She spotted the crater left by Lion-O's summoning of such tremendous power from the Eye of Thundera, and the shattered bones which lay about it. Sundry other skeletal remains dotted the landscape, both Mutant and Tuska. All of them gathered before the massed pile of rubble which had once been the Mutant Army's stronghold, square in the middle of an enormous trench of vaporized earth. The fortress had been smack in the middle of Sho and Lisker's combined megasmasher blast, and the only evidence left was a melted pile of slag of what materials had somehow survived.

"If Grune dug through this with one arm and a stump," Torr said as he came up to her left, "the he was the baddest sonuvabitch this side of anywhere."

She was forced to agree. The sun began to set over the enormous trench dug by the two megasmashers and the wreckage of both Mutant soldeirs and Mutant vehicles. She remembered the assault well, the thrill and terror of combat. Cheetara had almost lost her life on this soil.

For it to be saved by Lisker, of all people.

"Fan out," she said. "Let's try to find where Myrlha got above ground. We'll have a better chance of getting to the subterranian levels there." Cheetara looked about, not finding Laheela anywhere. She had an idea where the other woman could be.

The sunset cast the sky of her new homeworld in a firey glow as Laheela stood at That Spot. Where Sho and Lisker had eradicated the rest of the Mutant Army. She could almost feel it happening as her imagination overrode her memories. The Mutants charging toward them, the brilliant light that had immolated all before it.

This is the spot, she thought. This is where my enslavement ended. Right here. She still remembered seeing that light, then kissing Maria in joy as she was born anew. Sho, she knew, had fought to bring her to this point, whether he had meant to or not. Lisker had, as well. Why? What did it matter?

She stared out over the trench of scorched earth, to where Fortress Plun-Darr had once stood. Two men had fought for her freedom, each with their own reasons, but her standing here now was the ultimate result. Seeing the devastation they had inflicted, the bleached bones picked clean by Third Earth's carrion eaters, Laheela could not help but be awed. Having seen it on the ship was nothing next to seeing it from ground level.

Laheela traced a finger along the grip of one of her guns. In her mind's eye, she could see Grune before her. With Primor dead, and Grune alive, she found shifting her lingering hate all the easier. Grune stood before her as Primor had, gesturing to the shackles hanging from the ceiling. Those things which still sometimes chafed her writsts in her dreams.

"Laheela?"

The sound of her name snapped her out of her reverie. She turned to see Cheetara approaching.

"Sorry," she said. "This is where Sho and Lisker..."

"You weren't thinking about that."

"No." Laheela took in a deep breath, thinking about what she should say.

"Planning to shoot me?" Cheetara's pointed question and raised eyebrow made her hand flinch from the gun.

"Sorry! I... I was imagining Grune. What I'd like to do to him."

"I won't tell you not to think things like that," Cheetara said as she came nearer. "I've had a few thoughts in that direction myself."

"All the abuse, it was the Mutants. But, they're dead and he's not." The other woman remained silent, the look on her face encouraging her to go on. "I mean, if what we all talked about happens..."

"That's why we're here," Cheetara said gently. "To make sure it doesn't."

"I know. But... He TURNED on his own kind!"

"He's hardly the first to do that."

"That bastard turned a blind eye to what they were doing to his own kind. He didn't even care that we were being beaten and raped. We were just objects to him. Even spies had some lingering loyalties!"

"Seduced by greed, by lust of power. A traitor like Grune is rare. He's driven by hate."

"Why give him any mercy?"

"Why act like the Mutants?" Cheetara asked as she draped an arm over her shoulders. "Why discard what separates us from them?"

"I want to protect our people. I can do that, now."

"By contemplating murder?"

"I wish I could say no."

"So do I." Laheela snapped her gaze onto Cheetara's face, stunned at the revelation. "Trust me, I've wanted to wreak a bloody vengeance on them for the things I've suffered through. It's only natural to."

"I know it's not right to think like this..."

"Just remember: If you get Grune in your sights, aim to wound. Let justice win out."

"I wish I could promise that."

"If not, I don't think anyone would blame you." Laheela gaped at Cheetara. "I'm not saying it would be okay."

"Just... Understandable. You know what Primor used me for?"

"I know. That comes with a burden of hate I'd wish on no one." Cheetara cupped her face in her free hand. "You have much to work through. I know that, and I want to let you know I'm here. I've been in a place not too different from where you are. I want to help."

"Thank you, Cheetara."

"Some advice?"

"Sure."

"Keep talking to Tygra. He's better at helping people than he knows." Laheela smiled at that.

"So I've seen."

"Kyranna to Cheetara," came the voice from her comm.

"Go ahead."

"We've found a way into the tunnels."

"Great. We'll be right there."

"Wonder what these were used for?" Torr asked as they shone their handlights along the smooth stone. The party of ThunderCats stood on an elevated walkway that ran parallel to the wide square trench in the bottom of the tunnel. Dust hung thick in the air, lit by the beams of the lights.

"I believe this is where Myrlha and Salvador made their escape," Siberias said. "It's close enough to the site."

"These aren't natural caverns," Cheetara said, running a hand along the smooth surface of the wall. "From the look of things, they were made a long time ago."

"By humans," Kyranna added. "I heard that a stadium had been built here a long time ago."

"An entire city, according to Sho," Cheetara replied before sneezing. "These tunnels date back to Second Earth."

"I wonder what they were for?"

"If I had to guess, Laheela," Siberias said, "these are sewer tunnels."

"Great," Torr groused, "we're walking through fossilized shit."

"There's no telling what's down here," Kyranna added. "Myrlha and the Wollo made it, but they had fresh air to follow. How do we retrace their steps?"

"We don't," Cheetara said, "at least not now. Night's almost fallen. Besides, as old as these tunnels are, I'm not sure how stable they'll be after the hammering they took from above last year. Back to the Feliner. We'll investigate further in the morning."

Sho awoke from the dream again, feeling the faint prickle of a connection between himself and... something else. It wasn't the Guyver, but... Sho cursed as the connection faded again. What was it? He had felt it when fighting the future Grune, and was no closer to knowing its true nature than he'd been then. The windows of the Medical Wing were still dark, and the presence of Myrlha beside him was warm and inviting. He draped an arm about her, and sleep overtook him again in moments.

"We're beginning our next foray into the tunnels," Cheetara said over the commlink. Lion-O stood in the Control Center of Cat's Lair, sipping his first coffee of the day and trying to look regal despite only having awakened a half hour before.

"Be careful down there," he said in a voice thick with sleep. "I'm not sure how stable they are."

"I plan to. Cheetara out." Her voice was all business, they never spoke intimately unless alone together. Having finished his coffee, Lion-O left the Control Center to Lynx-O and made his way to the throne room for another day of adminstration duties which had bedeviled all kings before him.

"You okay, miss?" the burly guard on the right at the entrance to Cat's Lair asked as she drew near. She couldn't blame him for being confused at her appearance.

"I am well," she replied. "I seek an audience with his majesty, King Lion-O." The two men, each holding spear with a pistol holstered at their hips, traded a look that spoke volumes. "It is urgent."

"No offense, miss, but you seem to be needing an audience with Lady Pumyra what with all the bandages."

"Vanguard Sho, as well," she continued as if neither had spoken. "They will both wish to see me."

"Oh, why not?" the lean guard on the left replied in a weary tone, clearly eager to pass her off on to someone else. He stepped into the recessed doorway. "Entrance to Sir Tygra," he said on activating the comm device.

"Tyrgra here."

"Got someone at the door, says she needs an audience with the king. And the vanguard."

"Strange..."

"Ny name is Mumm-Rana," she said for the benefit of the guards and Tygra. The silence from the commlink was thick with anxiety.

"Send her in. I'll arrange an audience immediately. Escort her directly to the throne room."

"After you, gentlemen."

"Mumm-Rana," Lion-O said in greeting after having dismissed the guards. Tygra remained behind with Sho standing beside him. Tension swirled and eddied in the surounding space, yet Mumm-Rana appeared perfectly calm.

"Time for round two?" Sho asked.

"No, Vanguard Sho, and I apologize for my earlier attempt on your life. I beg your forgiveness." Mumm-Rana faced him and offered a deep bow. Sho's jaw dropped almost as low as she did.

"Didn't you say you'd kill me the next time we met?"

"I did, and I apologize for that as well."

"Why didn't you simply teleport in here?" Lion-O asked with a raised eyebrow, relieved that the atmosphere was becoming more relaxed yet puzzled at her attitude.

"You are a king, now," she began once she faced him again, "and a man whom I respect. I would not insult you by short circuiting protocol."

"You're our friend. My door is open to you any time."

"Thank you. There are urgent matters we must discuss, but it would be best done in my pyramid."

"Why not here?"

"You will see, Tygra, upon our arrival. With your consent, King Lion-O?"

"Of course," he replied, not showing how he was looking forward to seeing some different scenery on top of worry at what this discussion would bring. At least, he thought, she didn't come for another fight with Sho.


	21. Portents

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode 21

"The city that used to be here," Kyranna began as they ventured further into the tunnels, "had to be enormous!" The air grew more and more stale the farther into the shadowed underbelly they ventured.

"It was. Sho told us it was called 'Boston'."

"A strange name," Siberias offered. "It must have its roots deep in this planet's history."

"You smell that?" Torr asked, shining his light about the moisture-coated walls.

"As a matter of fact," Cheetara replied, "yes." Five pairs of eyes opened wide, all sharing a look as the realization hit.

"GAS!" Siberias shouted, yet it came too late. Before they could retreat, all five fell to their knees coughing as the fumes overtook them. Cheetara's last thought before the blackness came was that it was not anything natural.

The golden light was the same as Sho remembered from his previous visit to the White Pyramid. Their footfalls echoed in the cavernous space of Mumm-Rana's tomb chamber as they neared the scrying pool. The cream-skinned woman in Egyptian garb caused all three to pause in shock. She was clearly Thunderian, and had been expecting them.

"Why, hello," she said in honeyed words. "My name is Jagara."

"THE Jagara...!" Tygra choked.

"You know her?"

"Jagara was the name of the most powerful practicioner of sorcery in Thundera's history," Tygra explained, "But she died ages ago!"

"Grune did, as well," Jagara replied with a smile. "As Mumm-Ra returned him to this world, Mumm-Rana has returned me. Sho." Jagara strode up to the human, hips swinging inside the abbreviated skirt she wore. "I almost wish you weren't taken already."

"Um... Thanks?"

"Jagara..." Mumm-Rana said wearily.

"My apologies, but it has been a long time since I've had a living body, much less one so young. Lion-O," she said, "you cut as fine a figure of a king as any who came before you."

"Thank you," he replied, "your words honor me."

"There is one more in our little cabal," Jagara said. The ephemeral image of an old Thunderian man coalesced next to her.

"JAGA!?" Tygra cried out.

"Within the walls of the White Pyramid," Jaga began, "I am visible to all, not just to Lion-O. Thank you, Tygra, for all you have done for Lion-O's sake. The rest of the ThunderCats have served as fine mentors." A wall-eyed Tygra bowed jerkily at the praise.

"It's good to see you again, Wise Jaga."

"Sho," Jaga said, "thank you for all you have done for our people."

"You're welcome?"

"You seem nervous."

"I've never talked to a ghost before." Jaga laughed at that.

"There is really no accurate term to describe the state in which I now exist." Mumm-Rana, Jagara, and Jaga each moved to the side of the scrying pool opposite the three men.

"Events have been set in motion," Mumm-Rana said, "since your awakening on our world, Sho Fukamachi. Events that were prophesied long before your birth."

"Like?"

"Perhaps some background is necessary." Mumm-Rana thrust a hand over the pool of crystal clear water. Steam rose into the air, revealing the image of a circle. The top curving half was white with a black dot while the bottom was black with a white dot precisely beneath. "Do you know what this is?"

Cheetara awoke on a cold metal surface. Her mouth was filled with a sour aftertaste, minor aches making themselves known along the length of her body. She opened her eyes, quickly taking stock.

They were in a cylindrical metal chamber, she saw, everyone stirring with their arms behind them. A quick check with her fingers revealed the presence of rope wound about her wrists, but not tightly enough to be fully restraining. Experience took over, telling her that they were in great danger but whomever had captured them was either not skilled with knots or didn't care if they all got their hands free. She looked about, seeing a thick door securely shut on the far side of the room.

The top of the chamber, unlike the rest, was a metal grid whose openings were too small to get more than an arm through. Cheetara focused her eyes, making out the shape at the top. A dagger of fear ripped through her once she recognized what she was seeing.

"So, you're a survivor of Fortress Plun-Darr," she snarled as the others awakened. The Mutant, a Scavenger, remained silent as he glared down at them. Slowly, the other ThunderCats came to.

"Imagine this," the Mutant said. "I never thought you'd come back here."

"What the FUCK?!" Torr shouted.

"I take it," Siberias said groggily, "you are the one who helped Grune survive?"

"Huh?" the Mutant replied. "So, I was right. That bastard IS still alive."

"Release us!" Cheetara shouted, knowing it would do no good.

"Yeah. THAT'S gonna happen. Have you forgotten we're enemies?"

"How many more are there?" Laheela snarled.

"So far as I know, just me."

"I didn't know ancient sewer systems had come with prisons," Kyranna said as she tried to work her arms free.

"Don't ask me why it's there," The Mutant said. "Took me the better part of a year to repair it. I figured that if I could get a shot at Grune, I'd put him in it. But, five ThunderCats come stumbling into my home. How could I say no?"

"How did you survive?"

"Well, Miss Cheetah, when I saw those Guyver monsters slaughtering my buddies wholesale, I did the only sensible thing. I got the fuck out. I saw that giant beam, by the way. Holy SHIT!" The Mutant shook his head at that. "By the way, you weren't all that thorough with your carpet bombing. I was able to put a Nosediver together from spare parts. It's made getting food much easier. As a human farm found out."

"True to form," Siberias said.

"The women there, that wife and daughter? I bet it took THEM a while to walk straight again!"

"You built this for Grune?" Cheetara asked, hoping to keep him talking.

"Mostly to keep myself sane. See, thanks to Grune's WONDERFUL leadership, and your sneak attack, I lost all my buddies AND my way off this damned rock! To THINK I'd get to use it like this!"

"So, what's it for?" Laheela asked. A trail of rope fell down her back as her hands freed themselves. The rest followed suit moments later.

"See that pipe by the floor?" The Mutant pointed, and the ThunderCats took notice of it. "Did you ever figure out that this used to be a sewer system?"

"What are you getting at?" Cheetara asked as ice encased her heart.

"Water still flows through most of this place. I was AMAZED at the ancient engineering skills used to make these tunnels! Running pipes into this little place was easy enough."

Cheetara looked at the hollow pipeline near the base of the chamber, and all the pieces fell into place. She refused to allow her fear to show, yet could not ignore its grip on her heart.

"I've always heard that cats hate water. What better way to kill you than that?"

"We value water the same as any sentient species," Siberas calmly said.

"It's that drowning thing that's a real bitch," Torr added, visibly shaken.

"Noted," the Scavenger said before walking away. The creak of a valve being turned echoed a moment later followed by a rush of liquid. As one, the imprisoned ThunderCats turned back to the pipe as clear water began to gush into the enclosed space.

"It's the symbol of Yin and Yang," Sho said. "Yin represents death, while Yang represents life. It's actually a little more complicated that that," he added, "since everything has elements of both. Yin is the white part of the circle, and Yang is the black."

"Go on," Lion-O said, staring intently at the symbol.

"The basic principle is that Yin and Yang represent a continuous cycle. Things are born and live, Yang, then wither and die, Yin. The next generation represents the next Yang."

"Intriguing," Tygra said.

"It's kinda tough to explain in detal, but the basic gist is a cycle of life then death then life. It's mostly meant as two opposites that compliment each other, rather than oppose each other."

"Perhaps this symbol was incorrect?" Jaga mused.

"Not entirely," Mumm-Rana said. "This symbol reflects what is known as The Order. That is, the balance of two diametric opposites."

"Like Light and Dark," Lion-O said.

"Light and Dark," Jagara said with a wave, "Good and Evil, Substance and Oblivion, the list continues. In any event, life as we know it is the result of the struggle between the two. As there are times of light, there are times of darkness."

"This world has entered a time of light, but at great cost to the Order," Mumm-Rana said. "There is a third power at work." Within the mists, the symbol of Yin and Yang shrank to reveal a coursing sea of red. "What you see, men, is the Third Power. Chaos."

"There are representative powers of the three," Jagara said. The image split, showing Yand and yin separate and floating in a sea of Chaos.

"The Sword of Omens," Jaga began, "Will never obey a command given with evil intent."

"The Sword of Plun-Darr," Offered Jagara, "has the same power, but only responds to commands of evil. The two compliment each other, even by being the antithesis of each other."

"The third power," Mumm-Rana added. At this point, the symbol of Yang had separated from Yin. The Sword of Omens hung above Yang, while the Sword of Plun-Darr hung above its opposite, "knows no such distictions." Above it resolved a circular object. A dormant Guyver. "The power of the Guyver."

"What?!" Sho exclaimed.

"The Guyver's power is the same as the power of Chaos," Jagara said. "It knows neither good nor evil. It is power that exists for its own sake."

"Okay," Torr said as the water gathered abotu their ankles, "What do we do about this?"

"We have to stop the water," Cheetara said as the idea came to her. It was repulsive, but all they had.

"How?" Torr asked. "All we've got are the clothes on our backs..." His eyes widened at the implication. "You can't be serious."

"Can it work?" The water inched its way above their ankles. She cast a look at the top of the chamber, noting the absence of the Mutant who had captured them, and estimated its total height at nearly twenty feet. Not an overlarge leap for a Thunderian.

"We got five sets of clothes..."

"Are you nuts, Torr?" Laheela shouted.

"Modesty aside," Siberias said, "I doubt it would even do much to slow the water down. There is simply too much pressure pumping it in here."

"But, our clothes are going to weigh us down," Kyranna said.

"Not by much," Cheetara said, eliminating that option. It hadn't been one she'd been looking forward to trying. "Torr, let's see if we can do something about crimping that pipe."

"One order of muscle, comin' up!" The water had reached their lower shins and sloshed in time with their legs. The pipe itself was wide, nearly a meter in diameter, but it had to have been ancient. The Lion wrapped his arms about the surface, leaving only room enough for Cheetara to join him. Their muscles strained with the effort, yet the metal of the pipe refused to so much as budge. "I'm good to go again," Torr snarled after they'd stopped.

"So, what you're saying is that my powers are neutral?" Sho stared up at the strange image above the scrying pool, trying to make sense of what he'd been told so far.

"Though it may not seem so, neutrality is the very essence of Chaos," Jaga said. "That is what makes it, and your power, so dangerous."

"How?" Lion-O asked, clearly as puzzled as Sho himself was.

"When Chaos becomes involved with Order," Mumm-Rana explained, "the Order itself is damaged."

"How so?" Tygra asked.

"Sho, make no mistake, I admire you," Jagara said. "You may have seen yourself as an agent for good, but the power you use makes you a force for Chaos."

"What the hell?!"

"Your actions have done much for the innocent of Third Earth. Too much."

"Jagara, I'm confused," Sho said, rubbing a hand over his brow. "How the hell can helping people be a bad thing?"

"I have to agree with him," Lion-O said. "What you're saying doesn't make sense!"

"There are ways," Tygra mused aloud. "Say, for example, when a more advanced race makes contact with a primitive one."

"Which, you'll recall, we DID!"

"Yes, and it worked out fairly well. One, the natives were peaceful and mostly trusting of us. Secondly, the Mutants landed with us. The locals saw that we had their best interests at heart, mainly because of the brutality of the Mutants."

"So, without the Mutants, the ThunderCats wouldn't have swayed over the masses," Sho said. "Stories on Second Earth told that tale a lot."

"Yes, Sho, but consider this: What if they had seen our advanced technology with jealousy? What if we'd had to defend ourselves? We would have been, in the eyes of the locals, no better than the Mutants even if they hadn't landed here."

"I notice you haven't used the more obvious sceneario," Lion-O said quietly.

"A personal bias," Tygra said with a nod.

Icy water had reached their knees, and escape was still no closer. Cheetara fought past the mounting fear as she desperately searched for a means out of the deathtrap they had found themselves in. She looked up at the grating which covered the otherwise open top of the tank. Why, she asked herself, was their tormentor not present? Was he THAT confident in his chosen method of killing them?

"Torr," she said, "think you can bend those bars?" She pointed to the grid overhead.

"I can give it a try," he replied grimly. She nodded once before kneeling down and soaking herself more. Cheetara laced her fingers near her knees. Torr immediately understood, placing his boot in her hands. She hoisted upward as hard as she could, and Torr grapsed the bars at the apogee of his assisted leap.

"Just gimme a minute," he said as he worked his way to the edge of the tank. Torr snaked his arm out through the nearest opening. "Damn," he spat. "This weld is solid."

"It should be," the mocking voice of their captor said as he walked back into view. "Keep trying, though."

"Let me outta here, and I'll make you EAT those words!" Torr shouted.

"Uh-huh. Sure. So you think I'm a complete idiot?"

"I would have thought you'd prefer to torment us one at a time," Siberias said.

"Maybe throw in a rape or two," Kyranna spat.

"Why the melodrama?" Laheela asked last.

"Rape and torture some ThunderCats? Yeah, I'd love to," the Mutant said, "But I'm a realist. There are FIVE of you in there, and just one of me. Not only do I NOT have the resources to control you all to my liking, one wrong move and I end up on the bad end of those odds. No, best to get rid of you all at one go. Hell, I'll still be entertained."

"GET OVER HERE!" Torr shouted. "Face me like a man, you twat!"

"Um, no. So, Miss Cheetah," he said, locking eyes on Cheetara. "How goes the drowning?"

"We won't die here," she said with far more confidence than she felt.

"Oh? Because it looks a lot like you will. Unless muscle-man over there is strong enough to break the reinforced welds I made to the top of this beauty. Which I kinda doubt he is."

"Bastard!" Torr shouted.

"I made sure this could contain Grune. You know, the most infamous betrayer in your history? Yeah. What chance do YOU have? Well, I still have some time, and I'm a little hungry. Think I'll get a bite to eat. It's not like you'll drown TOO soon, after all."

Water's up to our waists, Cheetara thought as the Mutant left once more. "Torr, any luck?"

"DAMNIT!" he roared. "The fucker's right, there's no way I'm breaking these welds."

"The door was no good, either," Laheela said, her voice cracking with fear. "Tight as a drum."

Cheetara took in a deep breath. "Then, if rescue is to come, it'll have to be from the colony."

"Which means Sho," Laheela said. "He's the only one fast enough to get here in time."

Which means that Lion-O has to be warned by the Eye, Cheetara thought, and he doesn't carry it much any more. She forced the dread away. There was one thread of hope, and she wouldn't dash it for the others.

Lion-O, she thought, PLEASE hear the Eye. It's our only chance. The water, much as she tried to ignore it, seemed to grow colder. She had been faced with death more than once, but this time it felt more real than before. Even having been captured by Safari Joe the second time hadn't brought such a feeling of finality as this.

"Though it's meaning from your cultural vantage point does not quite mesh with the meaning we have applied to it, it's basic nature is the simplest representation of Order." Jaga pointed to the image of Yin and Yang, having reformed in the swirling maelstrom of Chaos.

"I know now that you are not the Destoyer of legend..."

"Now, I'm getting really confused, Mumm-Rana," Sho nearly groaned.

"Sho, your actions as well as Lisker's have unbalanced Order," Jagara explained. "Not only have you dimished evil in the world, you have increased the powers of good."

"Bad thing, how?!"

"The Order is about balance," Jaga said, picking up Jagara's thread. "When Order restores itself, it will do so by increasing the prevalence of evil to match good."

"So, you're saying it might overcompensate somehow?" Lion-O asked.

"Grune," all three men said at once.

"He will have his part to play," Mumm-Rana said, "and that is all I know. Now, for the Prophecy of Destruction, which first led me to attack you."

"What, did you mis-read it?"

"In a sense," Mumm-Rana replied. "I did not have all of it in my possession. Your immolation of Mumm-Ra allowed more of it to fall into my hands." Sho wasn't sure, but thought he detected a hint of sadness in her words.

"So, he's dead?"

"In one sense, King Lion-O, yes. In another, no. So long as evil lives, so too will creatures like Mumm-Ra. If a way to forever slay him is ever found, his masters will simply choose another to replace him."

"The Order," Tygra said simply.

"Yes."

Bouyancy was beginning to take effect as the water neared Cheetara's breasts. Torr had come down from the grating up top, having failed to make the grid above their heads so much as budge. Kyranna was in his arms, and the fear she saw in the other woman's eyes broke her heart. Here she was, the most seasoned ThunderCat aside from Siberias, and there was literally nothing she could do but hope. It was a familiar feeling, but one she had never come to like. No one spoke, each having realized that there was nothing to say to change their situation one bit. All of their options had fizzled. Even if they had been able to force the door, it opened inward. The water pressure would have made it impossible to open.

To keep her mind away from the mounting fear of drowning, Cheetara allowed herself to ponder why a chamber such as this had been built so long ago. It's purpose was obvious. An out of the way corner of a series of tunnels most would only venture into for a clear reason, and then only for as long as necessary. Someone had built this for the express purpose of killing in this exact manner. Someone who took lives because it was pleasing, and who enjoyed the suffering of the victims.

Fitting, she thought, that a Mutant would discover it.

"There shall descend a king from the heavens," Mumm-Rana began, "bearing a sword in whose hilt is an all-seeing eye. The king will encounter the demon, and shall face him in battle again and again." The image of Yin and Yang was gone, and she began to pace about in the flickering torchlight. "Vexed by the king and his court, the demon will summon an army of the king's ancient foes from the very same stars."

"Sounds familiar," Tygra breathed.

"In the first battle of the war, the First Knight shall rise," she continued. "He shall know not who he is, nor the power at his command until the battle finds him.

"The next shall rise from the ashes of his past," Mumm-Rana continued. "Defeated once by the First Knight, the demon will recruit him along with a monster whose body is as the earth itself, and one who betrayed the people of the king."

"Sounds VERY familiar," Lion-O said.

"In battle with the demon's familiar, the demon himself shall fall, along with the monster of earth and the evil of a distant moon."

"What the..." Tygra gasped.

"The betrayer shall gain command of the horde, and the second warrior shall find the path to redemption through the love of a woman not of his folk. Through this, he shall stand at the king's side as the Second Knight."

"Wait," Sho said. "Lisker is going to side WITH me?!"

"The nature of prophecy is that it often reveals that which we think to be impossible," Jagara replied.

There were freely floating, and the overhead mesh was inching closer. Cheetara ignored the cold and focused her mind on Lion-O. The water slowly rose to the grid above their heads and with each second, the hope of rescue became more and more faint. She refused to give up hope, not until the very end.

Even so, she could not ignore reality. A timely rescue at this point would involve a miracle. Despite herself, she began to replay the tender moments she had shared with Lion-O. The touches, the looks, the nights of passion.

"Torr..."

"I'm here, babe."

Cheetara looked over at them, holding each other and staring into each other's eyes with only a trace of fear. They might have been rookies, but they controlled their emotions as well as seasoned ThunderCats. She was proud of them, and despairing all at once.

"Lion-O," she whispered.

"The Third Knight," Mumm-Rana said, "shall rise from the king's own court."

"WHAT?!" all three exclaimed at once.

"Empowered by the First Knight, the Third Knight will stand with the others about the king as he realizes his full potential."

"Wait, what the hell?!" Sho shouted.

"Sho," Tygra said as he placed a hand on his shoulder,

"How do I give this power to..."

All present turned to Lion-O as the Sword of Omens growled at his hip.

Lion-O snatched up the Sword and brought the crossbars to his eyes.

"Sword of Omens, give me sight beyond sight!"

He saw them, floating in rising water, staring up at the bars that would spell their doom. The vision faded, and Lion-O's heart skipped several beats. "We have to leave," Lion-O said, fear running rampant.

"I will transport you," Mumm-Rana said as she thrust her hands skyward.

Jagara blinked as she retrurned to her feet. "Should you not have told them more?"

"I told them what they needed to know. The struggle against the inevitabe is what will give them the strength they need." Mumm-Rana sighed. "The fate of this world is on that boy's shoulders."

"Time for me to go," Jagara said. "But are you sure this was enough?"

"I told them what they needed to know. The rest is up to them. And you."

"So," the Mutant said he came back into view. "Almost there." The water was near the top of the tank, the metal bars of the grid within easy reach. "I wonder how you'll sound when you die. Won't be long now."

The Mutant was right. The water was up to her jaw, inches from the bars that lined the top of the tank. It was down to minutes, now. She could almost taste the gallons of water that spelled her doom, feel the bars beginning to press against her face. There was not much time left. Mnutes, if that. She looked to her left to find Torr and Kyranna sharing a kiss as death raced toward them all. Cheetara wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all as the water neared her mouth and the Mutant leered down.

The blur of blue wrapped about the Mutant's neck, resolving into Tygra's bolo whip.

Mumm-Rana's teleport hand landed them on a metal catwalk just above and behind the Mutant who was crouching on the metal grid atop the tank of rising water. Tygra was none too gentle about yanking on his whip, snatching the Mutant off-balance with a strengled cry. Lion-O and Sho had leapt down at the same time, both landing and rushing him. Tygra released his whip as Lion-O, who was wearing the claw shield, smashed the Mutant in the head while Sho launched a punishing thrust kick to his spine. The Scavenger tumbled head over heels to roll off the edge of the tank.

Lion-O didn't allow himself to recoil from the sight of water now covering their noses. He merely acted on instinct. Drawing the Sword of Omens, he swung it in a circle which sent the blade sailing through the metal bars. Sho caught one side of the circular section, Tygra landing and catching the other. Both pulled it up and back and he leaned down to take Cheetara's hand in his.

"C'mon!" Sho shouted as he pulled her out of the water. "Everybody outta the pool!" Lion-O pulled the soaked Cheetara out of the water and held her close while Tygra grapsed Laheela and Sho did the same for Siberias. Torr hoisted his wife up for Lion-O to grasp about the arms, then pulled himself out of the water.

"That's it," he spat, "my swimming days are OFFICIALLY over!"

"Bastard got away," Sho spat as he leaned over the edge of the tank. "Want me to find him?"

"No," Lion-O replied. "More important that we get out of here. Everyone else is soaked to the skin, and it's not exactly a tropical paradise down here." Lion-O himself felt a bit chilly. The ThunderCats who'd been in the tank were feeling it far worse.

"Speakng of," Torr said, "does anyone know where we are?" Just he finished, a gentle glow suffused the area about them, and the dingy confines of the tunnels vanished.

"It was generous of Mumm-Rana to bring us back to camp. Complete with a raging bonfire," Cheetara said as she slid beneath the blanket next to Lion-O. The priestess had appeared in the reflective hull of the Feliner on their arrival.

"Sorry to cut the rescue so close," he said as they wrapped their arms about each other.

"I hope you're not up to anything exciting tonight."

"Right now, I just want to hold you."

"Same here. So, what did you all talk about?"

"Later. This is something everyone needs to hear. It's... kinda big."

"Big enough for her to bring Jagara back to the world of the living. What is she like?"

"Myrlha might want to watch out."

"Oh. I'd hate to see those two come to odds."

"I've been thinking," Lion-O said as he pulled her against him.

"About what?"

"I want to marry you. Now."

"Not that I object..."

"No. This is the third time I've almost lost you since we started seeing each other.

"I'm still here. But, I see your point." Cheetara decided not to point out the political aspects of them officially mating.

Torr sat nude beneath the blanket with Kyranna beside him. She snuggled her body against his, in the way he knew so well.

"You sure about this?" he asked.

"I'm sure." The rest of the night, for them, was filled with the moans of passion.

Tygra sat in the tent wth Laheela at his side. She was nude escept for the blanket she wore.

"Thank you," she said. Her lips met his, and other thoughts vanished on the winds. There was no doubt in her mind, her heart, or her body. Tygra stiffened at first, then relaxed into her embrace and let the moment sweep him away.

In the Feliner, Sho answered to the best of his ability Siberas' questions regarding the Bio-Booster Armor.


	22. Rescue Me

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode 22

They dragged him along the cold metal corrirdor, the boots on his feet scraping against the corrugated steel. Manacles were clamped tight on his writsts, a short chain joining them as his arms throbbed from the pressure the strange bulldog-like men were putting on them. His head dangled on a limp neck, swinging with each rough motion his body was subjected to. After what seemed to him an eternity of off-white floor and the smell of the men hauling him, they stood before a thick metal door embedded in the wall. The Lion lifted his head as it opened to see nearly thirty other Thunderians sitting on the floor, all in chains. Before he could brace himself, he was thrown in. He landed between two women, rather painfully on his elbows, and heard the rumble of the doors closing behind him. He picked himself up, wincing at the scrapes, and felt a pair of slender hands on his shoulder.

"You, too, huh?" her husky voice asked. He looked up at her, midnight hair falling tangled and matted about her Panther features. Her eyes shone with kindness, as did those of the woman whose hands were clasped about her other. The former was lithe and tall, the Puma woman short and a tad stocky.

"Me, too," he said as she pulled him up to her unoccupied side.

Poor kid, thought the Panthress, Etain, as she pulled the young Lion up beside her. She held Avril's hands in one of her own, drawing warmth and love from the contact which would soon be abruptly severed as she and the rest of the surviving members of their convoy from Thundera were shipped to where they would be sold like cattle. Etain leaned down to kiss her on the forehead and managed not to start crying at the thought of what awaited them all. The Lion rose up next to her, panting.

"Sorry to see you here, kid," she said, her husky voice a tad strained. The Thundrainium in the links of chain connecting her wrists were doing a job on her, even moreso on the slightly less-fit Avril. Etain eyed him, his tawny flesh and whipcord muscles beneath the small blue tunic, and could not help but feel something was off about him.

"Is everyone all right?" he asked in a suprisingly strong voice. Etain took a second look at him as his back straightened. The Thundrainium seemed not to bother him at all.

"What does that matter?" she asked, her voice bitter. Avril's hands clenched hers tight. "Look around, we're meat to be sold."

"Etain, stop," the smaller woman, Avril, said.

"There's no rescue coming for us," Etain nearly spat.

"Then let's just enjoy the time together we still have." Etain looked down into Avril's eyes and her heart nearly broke.

"I don't know about that," the Lion said. "Rescue might be closer than you think."

"Yeah?" Though her words were sharp, Etain couldn't entirely suppress the note of hope within them. "What's your name, anyway?" And why the hell aren't those shackles draining your strength? she added silently.

"Sho."

"That's a weird name," Avril said, taking a good look at him herself.

"I get that a lot."

Ten Days Previous

Though outwardly calm, Tygra's thoughts were awhirl as he tried not to stare at Laheela, situated next to him at the central control console of Cat's Lair. All the other stations were unmanned, the Control Center meant to be fully-staffed only in an emergency, and they had drawn the morning watch. Since the events in the ruined tunnels beneath what had once been Fortress Plun-Darr, an awkwardness had appeared between them. For his part, Tygra wasn't sure exactly what his feelings for her were. He had understood the basic reasons for what had happened. After periods of extreme stress of the life-and-death variety, the desire for sex could be intense; it was the body's way of demanding a way to bleed it off. For his part, he hadn't known a woman for so long that his own body's demands had overridden his good senses on top of the relief that the others were safe. Particularly Laheela.

He felt, all told, slightly ashamed of himself for having given in to raging hormones especially given what her life under Primor's heel had entailed. Though their lovemaking had not been awkward in the slightest, the aftereffects were another matter. Tygra steeled himself. They were alone for the moment, and there would be no better chance to talk this out than now.

"Laheela."

"Yes?"

"About that night..."

"Yes. About that night." Her voice was resigned, flat.

"I took advantage of you, Laheela. I can't, no, I won't deny it."

"I thought I was the one who jumped YOUR bones?"

"That aside, we haven't known each other for long and I know about..."

"You don't have to remind me, but I won't say I can't fully forget it."

Laheela finally allowed herself to look at him, at his stunned face. True, she had felt awkward about what had transpired between them, but obviously not nearly so much as he had and for different reasons. Her attraction to Tygra had been feirce, she had known that after their first... well, she had to call it a date. It wasn't his looks, or his body (both quite nice in her opinion), but the man himself. The quiet way he had with her, his willingness to listen without questions, the sheer warmth of his presence. After being rescued from the water tank, she had known. She hadn't known, however, how he felt toward her even after the night they spent together.

"You made me forget Primor for a little while." And THOSE were words she never thought she'd say. What had started as raw, animalistic need had become the warmest sexual experience she had ever known. Laheela had once thought, during her days of bondage, that she would never want anyone if she were ever freed. The realization that she, in fact, did had caused her no small pause. Was she in love, or in love with the IDEA of it?

"I did?"

"And that was the greatest thing of all." Even moreso than the hours of sensual pleasure and... Laheela would never admit to losing count of all the orgasms she'd had. A woman had to keep some secrets. "Tygra, you made me fully free of him. Even if just for a little while. That meant more to me than you know." The feel of his hands, the gentle caresses, so much different from the brutal gropes of the Simian captain. Laheela had never thought she would enjoy a man's attentions, a man inside her, again until that night. But, was it love?

"Laheela..."

"I won't lie. I enjoyed it." Like a righteous mad bastard, she couldn't bring herself to say. "We both did. It was something we both needed, I think, and I don't regret it one bit." She saw him relax ever so slightly. "But, that night was about raw need."

"So, where do we go from here?" He asked, his voice soft and a trifle nervous.

"I don't know, but I want us to go together." There. She had said it. She had taken her first step.

"You do?"

"Yes, with you. Tygra," she turned to face him, "I don't know what I feel just yet. I need time to work it out. But, I have never felt like this before."

"Nor have I," he said after a nervous swallow.

"I wouldn't mind us doing that again, though."

"Nor would I, but..."

"But, let's hold off for awhile on that. So," she said, relaxing in her seat. "I guess we're a couple now."

"We are?"

"Tygra," she snapped, "don't start this off on the wrong foot."

"Sorry. This... Well, I didn't know how this conversation would go. I wanted to apologize..."

"For what? Making me feel alive again? Tygra, you never need to apologize for that. Yes, what happened was sudden, but I can't spend my life afraid of men. If I have learned anything, it's that I can't live my life as a victim. YOU taught me that." Laheela drew in a breath. "Tygra, I like you. I might even love you."

"Y...

"BUT!"

"Y-Yes?"

"I don't know. Tygra, there's a lot of things I don't know right now. I know that I want you. Gods, do I want you. Just... bear with me. Please."

"I shall, Laheela," he said, nodding. "I shall, indeed."

As if proving that the Universe cannot tolerate long a moment of tenderness, the alarm display went off on the control board just as alarm klaxons began to sound. As one, their hands flew over the controls to snap the image on the main monitor onto a small ship entering Third Earth's atmosphere at a dangerous angle. Pieces fell off of it as it fell, burning in the friction of the atmosphere.

"That's Mandora's ship!" Tygra exclaimed as a larger piece of the outer hull flapped away from the fireball of her alarming descent.

"No response on any channel," Laheela said. "At that descent angle, she'll never make the ground!"

"Come on, come on..." Tygra softly urged as the heavily damaged craft streaked lower and lower and even more chunks of the hull spiralled away from the ship. In what could only be described as a minor miracle, the ship righted its angle degree by single degree as though Mandora were fighting gravity and the limited controls she had for all she was worth. Agonizing moments crawled by as the craft descended lower into the atmosphere.

"She's through the upper atmopshere!"

"But that ship is cooked!" Tygra immediately calculated her descent trajectory, relieved that she would land well clear of the colony.

"I have fire teams standing by," Laheela said, "alerting Medical Wing." Another chunk of the ship leaped clear, followed by a metal orb which had to be an escape pod.

"Medical," Pumyra's voice said over the comm channel.

"Prepare a medical team and head for grid square 84," Tygra said, "there's an escape pod about to land. Be advised, it's Mandora."

"Understood. Heading out."

"I only hope they make it in time," Laheela said as the escape pod dug a deep trench in the soil on landing.

Pumyra was out of the newly-built ThunderTank almost before Panthro could bring it to halt. The escape pod lay at the end of a half-kilometer long gouge in the dirt, the grass on the edges still burning in patches. She charged forward, noting that the hatch hadn't opened on its own and that the metal was smoking. The hatch opened during the last few meters of her run, and Pumyra immediately saw the danger Mandora was in.

The corners of her mouth bore dried blood. Though her uniform was mostly black, Pumyra saw several spots moist with that life-giving substance. Mandora lay limp and unmoving in the seat. Her hands reached out on contact and inventorying the damage. Broken ribs... damn, definitely a punctured lung. Pumyra consulted the medscanner, reading multiple pulled muscles but minor damage aside. In Mandora's hand was a data spike. She stirred, drawing Pumyra's attention.

"Don't move," she said. "Help's here."

"Data... spike..." Mandora weakly offered her hand. "Take it... please... stop them..." Mandora lapsed back into unconsciousness.

"GURNEY!" Pumyra screamed as loudly as she could. Things could have been worse, but she wished they could have been better as well. She handed the data spike to Panthro as the gurney was hauled into the rear of the new ThunderTank and the vehicle roared off toward the colony.

Sho reviewed the information on the dataspike as the ThunderCats who were not attending to Mandora looked on. The data scrolling on the main screen was horrifying.

"To think they'd do that," Lion-O breathed, standing in the center of the gathered ThunderCats. On the screen was volumes of information regarding a network of corruption in the high-command structure of CONTROL, the Pan-Galactic Federation's main law-enforcement body. And, it went all the way to the top.

"Bribes, maybe?" Panthro asked, suddenly sure of why Mandora had arrived in her condition. "She was about to blow the whistle."

"Or she had," Sho said as more information appeared. "I'm reading that the commandant of CONTROL has already arranged passage on a ship called the Vertis."

"Shiner," Bengali snarled, "the bastard."

"Know him, then?"

"Kinda wish I didn't."

"Well, it seems he hired this guy to carry him and a bunch of... just a second..." The next screen of information shot a chill throughout all present. "My God..."

"Our contrymen," Cheetara gasped. "Thirty of them..."

"According to this," Sho began, "these guys were involved in a slave trade, mostly on worlds not affiliated with the Pan-Galactic Federation, where they'd have no jurisdiction."

"Sadly, we're in no position to help those already sold," Tygra said, sorrow thick in his voice. Laheela remained ramrod straight beside him, glaring at the screen. "But, there are thirty who need our help now."

"They even used CONTROL ships to ferry them," Lion-O noticed, "using falsified paperwork to cover it."

"And the network of money-transfers," Cheetara said. "It must have taken Mandora YEARS to compile all this."

"Investigating her own people," Panthro said, shaking his head. "From what I see, even their internal affairs people were involved. Had to be hell on her."

"Hey, check this out!" Sho said as he brought up more of the voluminous information. A star chart appeared, plotting a course through the Sol system.

"A stable gateway," Tygra said, shaking his head, "don't see that every day."

"The data calls it 'Thieve's Conduit'."

"Sho, that's a rare event. I never even knew it was there," Tygra brreathed as he neared the human's station. "A quasi-stable wormhole."

"A what?" Lion-O asked.

"A stable wormhole," Tygra began, "is a shortcut between two fixed points in space, yet is something we've never encountered. Quasi-stable is a wormhole with one end fixed in space, yet the other turning up in various points. Most naturally occuring wormholes are utterly unstable."

"According to this data," Sho began, "the entry points for the other end appear regularly in various points of the quadrant."

"And Shiner's gonna use it to get to this point," Myrlha said, "which gives us barely ten days." The door at the rear opened, startling everyone, and Pumyra walked in, flanked by Siberias and Kyranna.

"She's gonna be off her feet for awhile, but I expect a complete recovery," she said.

"Then let's get you three up to speed." Several minutes passed as the three late-comers were filled in.

"I don't mean to sound like a taskmaster here, people, but we need a plan," Lion-O said.

"If we equip the ThunderStrike back onto the Feliner," Panthro began, stroking his chin, "we could get there in time, but we wouldn't have enough firepower to storm the Vertis."

"Why?"

"Sho, the Vertis is a total warship. The Feliner wouldn't stand a chance in a straight-up fight."

"So, we have to get someone inside," Claudis said, rousing from his silence. "But how?"

"If Shiner learned anything from when we were his captives," Lynx-O offered, "then he knows the value of Thundrainium restraints."

"That stuff won't affect me," Sho said, "but I couldn't pass for Thunderian. Even if I could, how would I get... aboard?" Sho looked over his shoulder at Pumyra, whose eyes were alight.

"Sho," she began, "don't let anyone tell you differently. You are a GENIUS!" Sho looked on as she and Siberias conferred.

"Yes, it might work."

"Um..."

"If I'm on the same wavelength," Panthro said as his eyes lit up with the samle flicker...

"Sho. Medical Wing. Now," Pumyra ordered.

"I'll be in the Depot. Tygra, I'm gonna need you on this."

"Done."

"I'll join them," Laheela said, the same light in her eyes.

Laheela noticed Tygra easing back from Panthro as they walked toward the Depot, until the two walked side-by-side. The warm feelings from before, the confusion about what they meant, were gone. More of her people were facing the life she'd had. Even more might even be living that hell, and the knowledge that helping them was beyond their capability galled her to no end. But, Tygra had been right. If she had learned anthing over the years, it was when to act and when to be docile. She still, however, didn't have to like it.

"Whatever this plan is," she began in a low whisper, "I need to be in on it."

"I'm not at all sure I know what it is myself, but I have an idea."

"Sneaking Sho onto that damn slave barge, that's what." And, she kept to herself, I hope he raises all kinds of hell.

"I'm certain that's it." Tygra nodded once. "And, if so, it's likely we'll be cooling our heels while Sho does the work. I don't like having to use him like that."

"I don't, either, but we have no choice. I... I want... No, I NEED to see them freed."

"Like before."

"Yes." It was just like him, not to say what was not needed.

"C'mon!" Panthro shouted from ahead. "Get a move on!"

"I'm certain Lion-O will approve, and we could use your help in the Depot."

"Thank you, Tygra," she said with some of that warm feeling slipping past her grip. He merely smiled as they picked up their pace, and Laheela's hand somehow found its own way into his.

Lion-O stood in the lobby of the Medical Wing, Mandora having been placed behind a privacy screen and under heavy sedation. Myrlha stood beside him, along with Bengali and Kyranna.

Myrlha focused on the thought that Sho would help rescue thirty more of her people from a slave's meager existence, on how much she loved him, of all the good which had happened thanks to his help. Even so, a tiny voice spoke to her of what seemed to be more and more true with each time they'd made love recently. The last few times, she had deliberately waited until the height of her fertility cycle, yet no change. None. Her cycle had proceeded normally. She told herself that it was nothing, that sometimes the magic bullet doesn't shoot. Still, that little voice whispered wordlessly that what Pumyra had told her regarding her chances of having his child had been right.

Pumyra came into view with Siberias, both looking rather pleased with themselves. She knew that what the other woman had told her hadn't been in malice, but she still felt a flash of irrational anger. Before that conversation, she hadn't been thinking about cubs. Sho had been supportive, loving, but he was a man regardless of species. Some aspects of being a woman were well beyond a man's grasp no matter how loving and kind they were. It was just the way of things.

"Sho!" Siberias called, "come on out!"

"You're not seeing what I'M seeing!" he replied from behind another curtain.

"It'll be fine," Pumyra said with a laugh. "Come on."

Her heart turned to ice for a moment at the sight of him, yet her jaw dropped like the rest. He stood there, clad in only shorts, his body having been transformed. The pale skin was now tawny, with white from elbows to fingers and mid-shins to toes. Claws were on fingetips and toetips now. The mop of black hair now gleamed red, but his EYES! They were orange and slitted. Myrlha felt a pang rush through her, a fantasy, that the man she loved with every fiber of her heart were indeed of her own folk.

"I'm impressed!" Bengali exclaimed.

"It's incredible!" Kyranna shouted.

"So," Lion-O began, "why does he look like my kid brother?" It struck her, then, that Sho could easily pass for a much younger Lion-O.

"We didn't realize how strongly he'd resemble you when we first began," Pumyra said.

"We chose Lion Clan mostly in the name of expedience," Siberias added. "Other than size and the red mane, Lions lack the more distinguishing characteristics of other pureblood examples, not to mention mixed-breeds."

"Spots, stripes, coloration patterns, even differing hair colors and shapes," Pumyra said, pointing at the shock of pure white atop her mostly chestnut crown of hair. "The claws are, of course, prosthetic. The eyes are the result of contact lenses which merely disguise the true shape of his pupils and colors of his irises. I have some on-hand in case corrective vision surgery is not an option."

"And his scent?" Kyranna asked. Myrlha shook herself mentally. Even his smell was different now! It was like seeing two images laid over the other. One was Sho in his natrual form, the other this very young-looking Thunderian. How much like an adolescent he looked!

"We were able to synthesize a mist which temporarily masks his scent," Siberias explained. "It must be re-applied every twelve hours to maintain its effectiveness."

"If Panthro was thinking along the lines they were," Bengali offered, "I bet he has another way to fool Shiner into thinking he's Thunderian."

"I see," Lion-O said, tapping his chin with a forefinger. "Nice work! Even if he looks like me as a kid."

"Kid?!"

"Sho, you resemble a Lion at around age twelve or so."

"You're not kidding are you?"

"We've arranged a small test, if you'd all kindly step aside?" Pumyra asked. "Sho, you stay put." They moved out of the way, Myrlha unable to take her eyes off of Sho. Within moments, the doors slid open to admit Snarf, bearing a bundle of small clothes.

"Shnarf, I don't know why you wanted a set of Lion-O's kitten clothes, but..." Snarf stopped in mid-sentence, gaping at Sho. "Jaga doing jumping-jacks, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED HERE?!"

"I'm right here, Snarf," Lion-O laughed. Snarf whirled about to him, then back to Sho.

"I knew that. Wasn't fooled for a minute..."

"Hi."

"SHO?!" Snarf shouted, leaping backward on the tip of his tail. "I know you want to understand Thunderian culture, but isn't this a bit much?!"

"It's for an important mission, Snarf," Lion-O said.

"If you say so. I'll just leave these here." Snarf padded his way to the door before whirling on them all. "And I wasn't fooled for a second!"

"Of course not," Pumyra said. "I think our disguise is as close to perfect as we can get."

"Now, let's see what Panthro's cooking up," Lion-O said while Sho took the garments. Moments later he emerged wearing them.

"How is it?"

"A little tight, Lion-O."

"Know the feeling. Let's go. Pumyra, Siberias, great job!"

"Thank you, m'lord," they replied in unison. As they entered the corridors which led to the Depot, Myrlha fell in step beside Sho.

"Like the new look?" he asked, his voice playful.

"I prefer the real you," she said, her heart warm. "With you like this, I feel like a cradle-robber."

"Really?"  
"Trust me, Sho, I prefer the REAL you." She kissed him then, light and tender, before they made their way to the Depot.

"I never expected this," Tygra said as he stood next to Panthro in his main drawing area of the Depot. Sho stood shivering in the tight blue tunic he wore, wishing for the warmth of his own clothes and the absence of the gaping stares Panthro and Tygra were sending his way.

"It's like looking at..."

"Me as a kid," Lion-O said dismissively, "Sho's been getting that a lot."

"If it was good enough to fool Snarf, Shiner doesn't have a chance," Panthro replied. "C'mon, he's the next part."

"Did I miss something?" Sho asked as they walked past racks of tools and piles of junked parts waiting to be melted. "I know time's a factor and all, but isn't this getting laid on a little fast?"

"It's tough to plan a grand strategy when things like this suddenly pop up," Cheetara replied, stopping her hand from ruffling his newly-red hair. "Sorry. I guess that was kind of a reflex."

"I can deal with it," Sho sighed, exasperated. "It's for the cause. Hey, cut it out!" he cried when Myrlha ruffled his hair instead.

"Sorry," she laughed, "couldn't resist!" They emerged into the main assembly/testing area of the Depot where Kat, Kit, and Laheela were scoring the surface of a spherical escape pod with torches.

"I have enough junk," Panthro began, cutting off the teenaged twins before they could comment on Sho's new look, "to simulate the destruction of a small ship. I plan to ventilate some spare Thundrillium fuel cells to simulate a drive reactor accident."

"Think it looks damaged enough?" Laheela asked after cutting off her torch.

"Perfect," Tygra confirmed. "Has the transmitter been modified?"

"Ready and waiting!" Kat said.

"Transmitter?"

"Sho," Panthro said, "Shiner's likely gonna scan the pod to see who's in it. The distress beacon's been outfitted with a system to transpose human bio-signs to Thunderian."

"But how can we be sure Shiner will pick him up?" Lion-O asked.

"Because of his mercenary nature," Tygra explained.

"In other words, this Commandant Lenin will pay him to do it," Sho said. "Greedy bastard. Kinda fits his namesake."

"Who?" Lion-O asked.

"Oh, you mean the man who founded Second Earth's Soviet Union!" Tygra replied. "Yes, men of that stripe seem to follow similar patterns. Even wearing the disguise of revolution, greed is still greed."

"Damn stupid way to live, if you ask me," Sho said. "Trust me, I was there. It wasn't a nice place."

"In any event," Panthro said, "I can transport the junk and the escape pod to the necessary co-ordinates. From there, we dangle the bait."

"I just hope this works," Sho said, not looking forward to being suspended in vacuum in a metal sphere. "You sure this thing will pass muster?"

"Much as I hate to compare Mutant tech to our own, ecape pods are pretty much universal. One is the same as another. As long as we're dealing with Oxygen-breathers, anyway."

"We're really reaching on this one," Bengali said, "but we have to try."

"I'm in. If there's any chance at all I can help, I'm gonna do it."

"I have a schematic of the Vertis from Mandora's data spike," Cheetara said as she handed the datapadd to Sho. On it, Sho spotted the cargo bay in which the people he would rescue were to be sequestered.

"Noted," he said, committing every twist and turn to memory.

"Hey," Panthro said, "they're gonna hit you. They're gonna..."

"I don't care." Sho's emotions were steadily being replaced by his power, by the destruction he knew he could unleash and must control. "I'll take the beatings. I've taken worse."

"I am curious," Claudis said, emerging into the Depot accompanied by Snarfer.

"About what?"

"What you shall do once you encounter inevitable resistance?" Claudis did not notice Tygra stiffening ever so slightly, or seemed not to.

"I made a promise to myself, to protect my countrymen no matter what," Sho said. "If this Shiner wants to get in the way of that, then it's not my fault." Silence fell at that. Claudis nodded at him, smiling.

"Best of luck, Sho," he said simply.

"I want to..."

"No, WilyKat," Lion-O said. "The bulk of the mission is Sho's."

"Understood."

WilyKit stared at her brother, recalling the latest session of council. The next Guyver would rise from their ranks. She knew him. Kat wanted to become the next Guyver. She could see it all over him. He wanted that power so bad they could both taste it. Kat had volunteered for every mission, hoping to wash away some imagined stain on his manhood. And, she knew which one.

She saw his face fall ever so slightly, as it would when they were kittens and kept mostly to the lair. She could almost feel the dark thoughts whirling in his head, could see where they were headed since the revelation from the White Pyramid.

Bro, she thought as they began to load up refuse and the escape pod, don't do anything stupid. Though she had always been the more adventurous of the pair, she had to take pause at where she thought this could go.

Zero Days Previous

The sea of stars enveloped them as Sho prepared to enter the escape pod. He'd committed the specs of the Vertis to memory long since, having been reinforced by Tygra at random periods. He knew the route. He'd spent the better part of two weeks seeing a Thunderian in the mirror. Tygra and Laheela joined him amid the pile of junk in which the escape pod rested. Myrlha drew near, a smile on her face.

"Come back to me."

"I always do." Sho didn't allow himself to dwell on the danger he would soon face alone as she kissed him again. "For luck?"

"Do you remember the route?"

"Could run it in my sleep, Tygra," Sho replied. "Now or never." He settled himself in the seat and strapped himself in.

"Remember. Once on the Vertis, you are on your own. If they hit you, cringe. Act afraid. Do whatever it takes to get put with the others.

Myrlha took her seat in the cockpit of the Feliner, worried despite herself. Sho was going in alone. Well, she corrected herself, not entirely alone. The Guyver counted as one hell of a companion when facing down wretched odds.

"Venting cargo bay," Tygra said. The Feliner shuddered a moment later. She stared at her monitor, seeing the cloud of junk spread in vacuum with Sho's escape pod in the center of the expanding cloud of refuse.

"Venting spent Thundrillium," Laheela said, activating the used-up modules in the cloud and emitting the subatomic particles bearing the energy signature of used-up Thundrillium. "That should convince them a Thunderian ship blew up here."

"Time to go." Tygra re-engaged the Feliner's engines, coupled with those of the ThunderStrike, to the outer atmosphere of Jupiter where the electromagnetic disturbances of its atmosphere would hide the ship from the Vertis. And, there they waited.

Shiner studied the star charts of this region of space as the Vertis emerged from its latest hyperspace jump. Three days with the fat-assed human, former CONTROL commandant Lenin, breathing down his neck. Yes, the money was in the bank, but he was such a control freak! ALWAYS wanting to know what was happening! Shiner restrained his temper yet again, but swore if the man made any more an ass of himself, he'd flush the fucker out the nearest airlock!

"We are in position," Shiner said before Lenin could ask. "We'll arrive at Thieve's Conduit in four hours."

"Excellent," the corpulent human said. "You really are worth your reputation."

"I wouldn't have been in business so long if I wasn't," Shiner replied testily.

"Captain!" an ensign shouted from one of the forward navigation panels. "Debris cloud detected! One thousand kilometes off port bow!" The ensign called up the image, magnified. "I am reading a single life-form."

"What kind?" Lenin asked, much to Shiner's annoyance.

"Sir?"

"Oh, answer the man," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "His money is good."

"It appears to be Thunderian." Shiner felt a chill up his spine at that. Thunderians. In this sector. Something smelled funny.

"Pick him up," Lenin ordred.

"Do I need to remind you, AGAIN, who is the captain of this ship?" Shiner hissed.

"I'll pay, of course," Lenin said.

"Naturally. I'll take my payment up front, thank you."

"You already have a good chunk of my liquid assests, you pirate!" he shouted. "Tell you what, I'll give you what I earn off this one."

"And that would be?" he asked. Still, his instincts tickled.

"Likely get a good price regardless," former commadant Lenin replied. "Exotics always do. Say, fifty thousand base-line price. More if this one's young."

"Helm," Shiner said, finding an excuse to stop talking to him for a moment, "how long has that wreckage been there? Report on the condition of the escape pod."

"Judging by the rate of decay of the energy patterns, about four to eight days," the crewman at the helm reported. "Scans show that the debris is consistent with known Thunderian designs." What they could not know was that most of it was comprised of the wreckage of the original ThunderTank coupled with as much Thunderian technological offal Panthro could scrounge and what he could fake as the same. "The escape pod has suffered damage consistent with impact from energized debris from a small ship."

"Hmmm... A lost soul trying to find his way to a new home, eh?" On the surface, it seemed legitimate. "Full sensor sweep."

"No other ships detected within four AU, sir."

"You know my money's good," Lenin said from behind.

No other ships within four Astronomical Units, four times the mean distance between a star and its nearest inhabitable world, normally the third one out. Hardly a viable measurement, given which planets held life in which solar systems, but even the most modern sensor arrays couldn't reach close to a light-year's distance, not to mention the fantasy of sensors capable of reaching a parsec. Three point six-two light years of early warning, Shiner thought. Imagine the possibilities! Imagine ships so fast, they'd need to have an early-warning bubble THAT fucking huge!

"Captain?"

"The full proceeds from this sale?" Shiner could not entrely keep the disgust out of voice.

"I should make it worth your while. Besides, this one'll likely die out there. Better for him or her to have some kind of life."

"I admire your definition of mercy," Shiner said in a tone that screamed the opposite. "Very well. Bring the pod aboard. Full security measures, and place this one with the others."

"You don't approve of my choice of retirement package, do you?" Lenin asked.

"What I think of your activities is of no consequence, so long as your money is good."

"For every criminal I ever heard..."

"And THAT will be the last you speak on that!" Shiner roared, fully enraged.

"Are we so different?"

"That is like asking if disgraceful behavior is the same as gang rape," Shiner spat. "Why did you turn to this life? Especially one who headed the organization dedicated to hunting us down?"

"I have my reasons," Lenin replied coldly. "So long as my money's good, what do you care?"

"I don't, by and large. 'If you can't beat them, join them'. Am I right?"

"So?"

"We are both criminals, at least in the eyes of the law. But," Shiner said, shaking a finger under Lenin's nose, "unlike you, at least I am true to myself."

"Bah," Lenin said, "what is law? Just an agreed upon set of rules. I found, Shiner, that laws cut both ways. One can enforce, or one can reap profit. For all I did for the Pan-Galactic Federation, I felt I was owed more than a pension."

"The SIZE of that thing!" Myrlha gasped. Lines of static streaked through the image enhancers which lined the interior "window" of the Feliner, their own sensors being hampered by electromagnetic interference. "And you're SURE the Vertis can't detect us?"

"So far, so good, at least," was Tygra's reply.

"Come on," Laheela urged, "it's right there..." As if on cue, the emerald lance of a tractor beam snared the floating lifeboat and began to haul it toward the ship. "Hook, line, and sinker," she said with a satisfied grin.

"I only wish I could see the look on Shiner's face when he realizes how big a hook he's just swallowed," Myrlha added.

"The mission's not over yet. It's all in Sho's hands, now." Both women fell silent at Tygra's words, solemn and tense. None of them would take their eyes away from the Vertis until the shuttles emerged. Myrlha didn't allow herself to consider what could happen if Sho were to fail. She didn't even let herself consider the likelihood of him failing.

Sho stood upright, peeling the flesh colored tape from his leg. The multi-tool Panthro had given him rested beneath. Long and flat with an adjustable portion at the end, Sho used it to free his hands, then turned about to free Etain. Over the course of an hour, all the chained Thunderians had been freed.

"Okay," he said, "who can fly shuttles?" Nine hands we raised. "Good enough. We're getting out of here now." Sho turned toward the door amid murmurs of confusion and some small hope.

"Okay, then." It was Etain, and she didn't sound convinced. "Looks like your next trick's to get past that door. How you gonna pull that off, secret agent man?" she asked once Sho was in front of the sealed door.

"Might wanna stand back, everybody."

"EXPLOSION!" the crewman manning the ship's systems panel cried out. "DECK 35, CARGO BAY 14!"

"WHAT?!" Shiner roared, sprinting to the man's station. The captives, he thought. "I thought you searched them!" he shouted at his head of secutiry.

"We DID, sir!" the man replied as his fingers became a blur over the control surface. "Internal sensors in the area coming back online... What the hell is that?" On the screen were thirty-one blips within an expanded relevant section of the Vertis' superstructure. Thirty Thunderian, one Unknown.

"Run the sensor logs back," Shiner ordered, his stomach having become ice as the picture in his mind became more and more clear. Just before the explosion had occurred... Thirty Thunderians and... one human? "The one we picked up," Shiner hissed as he whirled on Lenin. "The ThunderCats PLANTED him there!"

"Who?" Lenin asked, his florid skin fading to pallid grey. "Are they attacking?!"

"They have nothing to challenge the Vertis with," Shiner replied with pride still in his voice. "From outside anyway. It seems your men were not as thorough at silencing Mandora as you claimed."

"Your men can handle this, I'm sure."

"Of course," Shiner replied. No sense in letting him know how two ThunderCats had seized his ship and sent it away from Third Earth on his last visit to this sector. "Status?"

"Security Team Alpha-Two-Eight is enroute to intercept them, sir!"

"As you can see, my men already have this situation under control." Deep within, Shiner could not help but doubt his words.

Avril stared at him, unsure now what in hell he could be. The plates of teal armor, which had appeared in an explosion which had left a dent the floor and the locked door a bent ruin, covered strange purplish fibers. The sight of him struck fear in her heart. Even the curved fin atop his head screamed power and malice. She shivered, cuddling against her lover Etain at the sight of him and the raw power that seemed to radiate off of his form. The choked whimper that escaped her throat was masked by the collective gasp of her countrymen and the muted words among them which followed.

"Satisfied?" he asked, facing her and Etain. It was all Avril could do not to bury her face in Etain's side. She hadn't been so afraid since she'd been a kitten worried about monsters under her bed. Sho then whirled about, tearing the ruined door from its hinges. "We're not far from a shuttle hangar! Let's move!"

Sho led them out, already commanding his sensor medals to search for enemies. He was not disappointed. Ten of those dog-men closing in ahead with more closing from other corridors. Sho charged forward to meet the ones which would challenge them first. They emerged from the left and right, bringing rifles to arms. Sho wasted no time.

He dashed forward, grasping their heads in each hand and crushing them like overripe grapefruits. Sho then locked onto the pair closing from ahead, snapping off two bursts of the head beam which felled them. Sho leaped to the left, extending his blades and cutting them in twain before whirling about and firing the head beam in short bursts to fell the last of them. For now.

"Come on! Let's go!"

"Captain!" The tone of security's voice said it all.

"What?"

"Alpha-Two-Eight is... Gone, sir. Still tracking the captives!"

"Gone..." Shiner's jaw went slack. Ten of his best men... dead. At the hands of what?

"They're moving! Re-routing security to intercept!"

There it is! Sho thought as the quad of dog-like men raised arms. They didn't stand a chance. Sho charged in, the blades on his arms tearing them into shreds. It was over almost before it had begun. The doors slid open, only to slide shut again. Sho thrust himself between them, keeping them open as thirty people swarmed through the open spaces he left. Sho forced himself through, just before the doors shut. He engaged the head beam, welding the doors shut as he checked the shuttles.

Avril shook with horror, still unable to release her eyes from the sight of his transformed body. Blood dripped from his hands, stained his armor (if that was what it was), as he welded the doors closed. One of the pilots of their ship raced to the raised control panel behind the three shuttles and pounded frantically on the surface.

"GODDAMNIT!" he roared. "The panel's locked out! We're STUCK HERE!"

"Just get on the shuttles," Sho said calmly. "I'll handle the doors."

Avril stood rooted in place until she felt a hand on her upper arm. Etain's face filled her vision.

"Come ON, lover, let's GO!" she shouted, dragging her aboard a shuttle. The doors shut, and she found herself forced into a window seat with that monster in full view. Avril stared at him as the orb at his waist began to glow in time with the light behind his right breastplate.

"CAPTAIN!" the Chief of Secutity shouted.

"What?" Oh, no...

"Large energy reading detected in the shuttlebay! It's..." The ship shook violently, and Shiner found himself wondering what the hell he had taken onboard.

"Jaga's cape!" Tygra shouted as the beam of white light melted the outer hangar doors.

"The plan hit a snag," Laheela said, then her eyes widened as three shuttles emerged into the vacuum.

"CONFIRMATION!" Myrlha hooted. "THIRTY THUNDERIANS ABOARD!" But, what about Sho? she asked herself as several bodies spilled into the vacuum.

"Vertis is coming about!" Tygra shouted as the great ship began to move.

"Oh shit," Laheela said.

Through the viewport, Avril saw him as he threw the black ball at the doors they'd all come through. The shuttle eased off the deck plating as he turned and yanked a breastplate open. The light speared the space before him, melting the thick barricade in front of them. Air rushed into the vacuum, and she buried her face in Etain's arm.

"We're free again, baby girl," the Panthress said, stroking her hair and planting a kiss on her head. "I just hope that guy gets through this okay."

"M-hm." Avril buried her head deeper into Etain's side, shutting out the horror she had seen. "So stong. Too strong..."

Ignorant of Avril's quandary, Sho commanded the Gravity Controller to force him through the rushing air and flaling bodies. He angled left in time to dash under a dropping metal barricade. Sho rested against it, catching his breath as the corridor repressurized. He hadn't expected the plan to go as well as it had.

Shit, he thought as the sensor medals moved about their fleshy tracks. The Vertis was moving.

"Vertis is turning!" Tygra shouted. The massive ship slowly came about as the three shuttles raced toward Jupiter's atmosphere. Sho, he thought, DO SOMETHING! Seconds later, +++++++++++++++++++his silent plea was rewarded.

"Re-aquisition in four minutes," The helmsman said. The shuttles were centered in the viewscreen.

"Status of the unknown..."

"ENERGY BUILDUP ON DECK 30!" he shouted. "Same as the energy detected in the shuttle hangar!"

"Mein Gott in Himmel..." Shiner said in prayer.

He knew he was in the middle of interplanetary space as he charged the left lens of the megaasmasher, and that this move might end up with him sucking vacuum. If that turned out to be the case, his teleportation ability would be his only hope, even if a thin one. Sho doubted he could make it all the way back to Third Earth from the vicinity of Jupiter, but it might be possible to make it back to the Feliner. If it was far enough away, that was.

The megasmasher fired, ripping apart everything in its path. He hadn't been able to reach peak charge with the fighting and use of his other weapons from before. Sho knew that the engineering department was well behind him according to the schematics.

Here we go, Sho thought as he unleashed the blast.

The tractor beam winked out just before it could get a lock on the trailing shuttle. All three proceeded unimpeded toward the planned rendevouz point as the Vertis began to drift. Tygra brought the Feliner out of Jupiter's atmosphere, and the sensor readings of the Vertis instantly became clear.

"Jaga..." he whispered. The damage to the interior of the larger ship was indeed extensive and, from the bubbling evident on the exterior of its bow, he had a good idea how it had happened.

Shiner stuggled to keep on his feet as the Vertis shuddered. Damage alerts blared from seemingly everywhere at once just before the helm station exploded. The man stationed there flew back, his face a mask of scorched flesh and flying blood from the blast. A small fire erupted from his station. The tactical officer had managed to dash out of his seat just before his console exploded. Shiner's crew ran to redundant stations, taking in information and screaming it out. The bridge was filling with smoke that was not being pumped out.

"MAJOR DAMAGE!" the tactical officer cried from his backup station. "FUCK ME RUNNING!"

"REPORT!" Shiner roared.

"I... I don't know where to start!"

"Find a place, damn your eyes!"

"NAVIGATIONAL SENSORS ARE GONE!" cried the other helmsman. "We can't steer like this!"

"Captain!" the cheif engineer's voice cried over the intraship commnet, "what in the FUCK is happening up there?!"

"Can we reach full engine power?!"

"The engines are undamaged!"

For what good that would do, Shiner though ruefully, without sensors for guidance.

"LIFE SUPPORT NOW AT MINIMAL!" shouted the tactical officer. "We're down to CO2 scrubbers on decks one through forty!"

"Bring the redundant systems online!"

"They're gone, too! Completely destroyed! WHAT THE FUCK DID WE GET HIT WITH?!"

"Bring internal sensors back online!" Shiner ordered.

"And what about..."

"FUCK them, they're gone!" Shiner shouted, getting in Lenin's face. "If he says ANYTHING else, detain him at once! We have to..."

"CAPTAIN!" the tactical officer shouted. "I have the unknown lifeform back on internal sensors!"

"Where is it?!"

"Shaft 88, which ends..."

"Twenty meters away from the bridge," Shiner finished, spinning about to face the door. It all made sense. This thing had learned the layout of the Vertis, and...

"LOWER THE SHUTTERS!" Shiner shouted. "Re-route all available security to bridge deck!"

"Internal sensors fully online!" the tactical officer reported. "I can give you a shot of the doors the unknown lifeform will use!"

"Onscreen!" The main display shifted from a starfield to a double door outside of which were forty of his crew with each aiming weapons. Shiner felt his fear ease slightly. The lifts were down, so what emerged would have to be...

The doors opened, a shadowed form leaping from them. His men fired, not realizing until it was too late that it was a corpse of one of their fellows they'd perforated with lasers unitl they stood about staring at it. Shiner froze for a second, realizing what was about to happen yet was unable to get a warning out before it began. A shadow dropped into the open space, and the audio systems shorted out just before he saw his men grasp their heads in time for them to explode. The shape floated into the light, drawing another gasp from Shiner.

"What in the blue fuck is that?" he breathed as it turned and walked casually toward the sealed bridge door. My ship is all but destroyed, Shiner thought, nearly unsteerable. Life support is at rock bottom. All at the hands of that fucking THING!

"You were supposed to be..."

"Tactical officer!" Shiner shouted, "if he says anything else, kill him!"

"SIR!"

"You..."

"My men obey me," Shiner snarled before Lenin could go on. The fat human shut up at once. On the screen the strange insectile neared the sealed door to the bridge.

"Security teams..."

"Tell them to stand down. I won't lose more men."

"Aye, Captain."

"ARE YOU INSANE?" Lenin shouted just as the shutter bent from a blow.

"I have one chance to keep us all alive," Shiner said. "PLAY ALONG!" Dents appeared in the solid metal shutter, the barricade failing more and more with each smash until it gave. The insect-like creature stormed onto the bridge, and Shiner stepped forward to face it. As one, each person on the smoke-filled bridge turned about to take in the sight of the creature as it strode purposefully up to their captain.

"I am..."

"I know who you are," it said, cutting him off with a voice that dripped with cold fury.

"On behalf of what is left of my crew, I offer our immediate and unconditional surrender." If Shiner noticed the look of naked outrage on the face of his former client, he didn't show it. "Enough of my crew has died today, don't you think?"

Sho stared at the bulldog-like man with the monocle, honestly surprised. Surrender? Just like that? He searched with the sensor medals, finding no hidden weapons anywhere on the bridge. And, he had to admit, Shiner was right. Enough had died for one day.

"Congratulations," he said, "you've just made the most intelligent decision of your life."

"If I may say so, falling for this ThunderCat trap was the least."

"That's debatable. Do you still have communications?" A crewman seated at a console to his left nodded. "Shiner, make a call." He provided the frequency, which the captain ordered the dog-man to call. Within seconds, Tygra's face appeared on-screen along with Laheela and Myrlha. "Mission accomplished."

"Excellent," Tygra replied. "I take it Shiner has surrendered?"

"You don't have to rub it in, you know," he muttered.

"We'll take that as a yes," Myrlha said. "We made signal to the PGS Argent. They'll be here in four hours to detain the crew and escort us home."

"Admiral Melekhin's ship," Shiner said with a resigned sigh. "Looks like that old bastard wins out in the end."

"Understood," Sho said curtly. "Did everyone make it?"

"Indeed they did. Remain aboard the Vertis until the Argent arrives. Feliner out." The image vanished abruptly.

"Shiner," Sho said, "assemble your men in Shuttle Hangar Four."

"It will be done."

"And, have your navigation officer step away from the helm."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to destroy it in ten seconds. As you said, enough lives have been lost today." Shiner turned and nodded to the crewman, who nearly tripped over his own feet scampering away. Sho fired the head beam into the control surface in a continuous stream, melting it to sparking slag in seconds.

* "You did your homework on my ship." It was nearly a curse.

"And on you."

Admiral Nikolay Melekhin stood to nearly Lion-O's height, and almost as broad across the chest. His grey hair was cropped close to his head, his face a study in lines and sour expressions. The admiral stood beneath Third Earth's sun, flanked by five of his men who stood at port arms. Lion-O met him, crown and cape in evidence and his own entourage in place. Cheetara, Tygra, Laheela, Myrlha, and Panthro. The light gleamed on the rows of brass on his chest and the polished black boots he wore.

"King Lion-O," he said simply, "thank you for your assistance."

"What of CONTROL?"

"That organ of the Pan-Galactic federation is currently being overseen by the military while it is being gutted. The network of corruption Officer Mandora uncovered was indeed vast. It will be the work of years to rebuild it. May I inquire on her current state?"

"She is recovering, but my Court Physician does not wish her moved for a while yet."

"It is of no consequence. The data she provided us will ensure that heads shall roll. Her testimony is not necessary. I thank you, on behalf of the Pan-Galactic Federation, for saving her life."

"We could do nothing less."

"I have to admit," Admira Melekhin said with a shake of his head, "the damage done to the Vertis was a sight to behold. I never thought anything could make Shiner so meek. Well, in any event, I must return to my ship. I thank you again, King Lion-O." Melekhin and his retinue turned as one to board the shuttle which would ferry them back to the Argent. Lion-O watched it rise into the pale blue of a Third Earth morning.

Sho stood at the entrance to the closed shower of the quarters he and Myrlha shared, looking forward to getting clean. His skin felt positively grimy from the days he'd had to spend waiting for the Vertis. As Pumyra and Siberias had predicted, the Guyver had removed all traces of alteration from his body. Even the contact lenses had been removed. All except the grime and sweat.

"Hey, handsome," Myrlha said as she entered the bathroom, naked as the day she was born.

"Aren't you on duty?"

"I got WilyKit to switch with me. I go on tonight. Besides, I thought you needed a welcome home."

"You've been awful randy lately."

"Are you complaining?"

"Hell no. Wanna join me?" The stream of hot water and the steam was enough.

"If your ass isn't in that shower in five seconds, I'm shoving you... Well." Sho grabbed her wrist and pulled her in. And the rest was wonderful.

Etain reveled in the clean clothes she wore, sauntering across the topmost observation platform of Cat's Lair. Avril stood at the edge, leaning against the safety rail and staring out over the surface of an alien world at sunset. The sight of the colony, the familiar architecture, could almost have fooled her into thinking they were back on Thundera.

"It's beautiful," Avril said as she turned to lean her back against the rail, elbows atop it. Etain looked down at her, drinking her in. She resolved to thank that Sho the moment she saw him. Recognizing him wouldn't be difficult. There were only two humans in the colony after all, and the other was the injured woman who had alerted the ThunderCats to their former plight.

"Not as beautiful as you." She never tired of complementing Avril on that. The younger woman could be so self-conscious about that.

"Our temporary room in Cat's Lair is no place to get up to any... you know...

"Shenanigans?"

"Yes, that." Avril could also be rather shy about that aspect of their relationship. She was only beginning to explore that part of living, Etain reminded herself, and the realization of her orientation had been rather awkward for her. Etain had helped her adjust, and over the course of that they had found a deep and mutual love for each other. Despite the fact that Etain was attracted to men as well as women, she could never imagine anyone else sharing her life again. "I wonder what our new place will be like?"

"A step up from a converted cargo container with a couple of mats and broken furniture, that's what." Raw materials for building had been scarce on the planet where their ship had crashed, with food and water having been a close tie for second. The survivors of the crash had managed, but life had been difficult indeed. What they had seen of this Third Earth was damn near a paradise. "The Nobility really came through when it counted, didn't they?" This was a subject she knew would have to be broached carefully. The Guyver had clearly terrified Avril.

"Why does he obey them?" Avril asked, her eyes having taken on a thousand-yard stare. "With all that power..."

"Because he's a good person?" Etain phrased it as a gentle question. Avril could be delicate about some things, but everyone had chinks in their armor.

"But, that raw power! You saw how he killed those men."

And I won't shed a single tear, Etain thought. "Avril, sweetheart, he kinda had to. They didn't give us many options."

"I know... But..."

New topic, Etain thought. "I've heard about a program being launched to start schooling the kittens here."

"Really?" Avril's former, abbreviated, career had been teaching.

"From what I've been told, Sir Tygra is heading it up. A qualified teacher would be a serious boon, y'know."

"I was only an assistant."

"So?"

"Well, I WOULD enjoy working with kittens again."

"THAT'S the spirit! Hey, I also heard of a great fabric shop around here, and a few good tailors who buy from it." Tryphon, the man who did the weaving, was a master of his craft, she'd been told, and something of an odd unit.

"I could use some new clothes," Avril admitted. "What do they use for currency here?"

"Some crap called gold. Well, we can take a look around tomorrow. What say we get to bed? I could use some time with my snuggle-kitty."

"Etain..."

"I know, not in Cat's Lair. Hell, I'd feel weird doing that here, too." Etain leaned down, and Avril turned her head to meet her kiss. They parted, then made for the hatch which led down into the Lair itself. Once in bed, they were in each other's arms and asleep before they could blink.

The first year of Lion-O's reign draws into winter, with the colony preparing for the cold. A major announcement is proclaimed, as is a major discovery for Cheetara. Lynx-O also receives startling news. All this and more in the next episode of Eye of the Storm.


	23. Love Finds a Way

ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

End of Year One.

Lion-O ignored the colored light cast upon the floor of the Royal Hall by the rising sun as he sat on his throne. Many things weighed on his mind as the Winter solstice dawned, and most were troublesome. The hunt for Grune was at a standstill with no information coming in from the tribes of friendly locals. Jagara, who had taken up residence in Cat's Lair as Court Sorceress, kept replying that she could offer no assistance and that certain events had to take place first. She almost never emerged from her chambers, but was always willing to give advice to any who sought it. It was at Jaga's insistence that he allowed such a thing, yet his patience was wearing thin. All she would say was that she served a far greater good than he could imagine, which Jaga parotted.

He shook himself out of his oncoming funk as Tygra entered the Hall. King for not quite a year, he thought, and we're thriving. I guess SOME things are on track. Tygra bowed at the waist, right arm over his chest in the traditional salute.

"Busy day, so let's get on with it," Lion-O semi-groused.

"My report," Tygra began, "should brighten your mood some. Our school program is well ahead of schedule. I plan to speak to two candidates today. They were rescued from the Vertis a month ago. Myrlha is also willing to render assistance."

"Good, good," Lion-O said without yawning. It WAS rather early. "But, what about schoolbooks?"

"That will take some time, I'm afraid. However, other ThunderCats have volunteered to contribute their knowledge, as has Sho."

"Who are these two you've selected?"

"Their names are Etain and Avril. The latter was a teacher's assistant on Thundera, and such skills are scarce in the Colony."

The bolts of fabrics set in the niches of the walls set their eyes goggling as Etain and Avril entered the store named simply "The Loom". Each surface was fastidiously neat, without a speck of dust to be seen despite them being the only customers. Potential customers, Etain reminded herself half-heartedly.

"Welcome," the blue-robed man behind the counter said with a gentle smile. "My name is Fahd." There was no need to ask, in a colony of this size, if they had been rescued from the Vertis.

"Etain."

"Avril." Etain nearly laughed as Avril's eyes locked on a bolt of shimmering fabric whose color was scarlet bordering on sinful. Fahd noticed it at once.

"That's called silk," he said, easing around the counter with graceful steps. "And, it's quite popular. That bolt is the last we have, I'm afraid."

"Where did you get it?" Avril asked, her eyes transfixed. "It's so lovely."

"A merchant wandered into the Colony some time ago with wares to sell, and the name of a town where we could find more. Tryphon and I plan to go in the Spring. It'll mean closing the shop for awhile, but we can weather the loss."

"What is this used for?" Avril asked, running the fabric between her fingers.

"Undergarments for ladies, mostly. Racy ones, from the patterns I've had to sew lately." Etain chortled as the fabric fell from between her fingers. "We deal in tapestries, mostly, but that's Try's thing. I handle the clothing requests."

"R-racy?" Avril squeaked. Visions of skimpy panties and bras danced in her head, among other sexually charged images, before her face flushed and she thrust the bolt back in it storage space. "PUT IT BACK!"

"We'll take some," Etain said as she pulled it back out. Avril was aghast at her boldness.

"I take it I'll be sewing these in Avril's size?" Fahd said more than asked, sizing her up. "36-24-25. I have enough on-hand for that."

"How much?" Etain asked before Avril could protest. "How did you know, anyway?"

"I've done this for a while, now. Sewing is easy work, and I'm good at it." Fahd nodded before taking the bolt of silk out and cutting off the appropriate lenghts.

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO..." was all Avril got out before the door on the upper balcony slammed open to reveal a small WildCat.

"SHUT IT UP!" he bellowed.

"Just making a sale, Try," Fahd replied.

"Then keep it QUIET!" He stormed back into the rear room.

"I apologize," Fahd said, "Ever since he got commissioned to do a tapestry of our new Vanguard, he's been on edge."

"I wonder who wears the pants in THIS relationship," Etain muttered.

"I have enough for two sets of undergrments," Fahd said as if he hadn't heard. "Will that be enough?"

"Perfect," Etain said, dragging Avril away before she could protest.

"We have a bumper crop this year," Torr said.

"Oh?"

"Crop yeilds are about ten percent above predictions," Torr said. "Hunting is a bit down, but nothing to get in a twist over. The fishing expedition to the West Coast was insane! Fish were begging to be caught, I tell ya!"

"More on that?"

"Wel, M'lord, I'm not an expert on marine harvesting, but there's plenty out there. Sho was right on that score."

"Another colony," Lion-O mused.

"I don't know about all that, Highness, but I think I can set up a small fishing fleet. It'll take time to build the boats and set up distribution, though."

"We need those resources. Torr, you'll oversee overall food development. You'll stay here and report to me directly."

"Of course, Highness."

"You don't have to act so nonchalant."

"Well, highness, I've had word from my better half. Let's say, it was high time I became a family man."

"Congratualtions, Torr!"

"Who's Mommy's little man? Why, it's YOU! Yes, it is! Yes, it IS!" Pumyra didn't mind sounding like an idiot as she held Darin above her head. Her son laughed, as if to say "Silly Mommy" as she raised him up and down. Pumyra laid on the couch, bouncing her son up on her lower legs. "Catapault, WHEE!" she would exclaim as her lower legs hoisted Darin in the air. "Catapault, WHEE!" Another launch skyward for her baby. Darin laughed hysterically as Pumyra brought him down on her chest.

I wonder, she thought, if Mom had this much fun with me when I was as cub. Darin's head rested above her breasts, her son laughing and grasping with his pudgy hands. She looked into his eyes, and love burst in her heart. This was her child, her genetic contribution to the future. But, most of all, her little boy. Despite herself, Pumyra recalled the nightmare future Sho had been pushed into, of the version of her son he'd encountered.

Never, she thought.

"Don't have too much fun," Bengali said as he stepped into view and took a seat at the unocccupied end of the sofa. His hand traced up her right leg as she cradled Darin.

"Don't you have an appointment with King Lion-O?"

"Nah. Nothing much has come through the Forge lately. Sho and I have hammered out the plates for the ThunderCycles. I don't have much to do right now. What about you?"

"Siberias is handling our part of the..." Her words stopped as Bengali scooped Darin into his own arms. The cub reached up at his mane.

"Say 'Daddy'?"

"He's still too young for that," Pumyra said with a grin as she sat up. "At least he sleeps through the night now." Which was no small relief for either of them, not to mention Snarf. "BENGALI!" she cried out in mock outrage as the tips of his fingers traced up the insides of one thigh.

"What?"

"Let me put Darin down for his nap," she said, "then I'll come back."

"And then?"

"I'll give you exactly ninety minutes to stop doing that." Pumyra rose from the couch, smiling all the while. A day off never hurt, as Siberias once said to her as an intern so long ago.

"I see," Siberias said. Cheetara sat across from him, her face showing that she knew what he was about to say. All the better.

"How long?" she asked.

"Less than a month," he replied.

"I was careful," she said.

"I'm sure."

"Siberias, please report to the Royal Hall," the disembodied voice said over the comm.

"Your G-cell report?" Lion-O asked. He reclined upon the throne as much as he was able as Siberias approached.

"At this point, no news is good news."

"What?"

"We are still trying to learn the basics of the Bio-Booster Armor," Siberias explained.  
"Remember, this is a life-form we have never encountered before. Between Pumyra and I, we're stumped."

"I know that feeling," Lion-O said. Tygra stood to his right. "What progress have you made?"

"Well," Siberias began, "We are ready to begin testing on tiny cultures of G-Cells, just to see how they work." And if the computer models mean anthing, he didn't add. "I will not lie, Highness, if I had promised results within such a brief time I would have to have been either catastrophically incompetent or dangerously insane." He immediately regretted the slightly acerbic tone in his voice, but Siberias was defensive when it came to the Scientific Method. Lion-O, however, appeared to take no note of it.

"I'm not criticizing you. I admit, I'm not the scientific type, and I'd hardly question yours or Pumyra's judgment on matters of biology." It was a magnanimous, even sincere, soothing of his temper, Siberias noticed. Lion-O did not play politics all that well. Perhaps that wasn't a bad thing.

Cheetara will give you a rather personal lesson on biology, I think, he didn't say with a smile he didn't show. Instead: "Pumyra and I both look forward to positive results."

"As do we all," Lion-O said.

Tygra watched as Siberias took his leave. One of the three people who knew the real reason behind Lion-O's aging while in stasis. What were his thoughts on the matter? Did he find it a mere scientific curiosity, or was he so wrapped up in his current research to bother thinking about it at all?

"Field coefficient twelve to the eighty-seventh," Panthro muttered as he looked over the formulae for the FTL field again. "Spatial distortion is..." The door to the Depot slid open. Panthro turned in his chair, thankful for the change in scenery which was plotting to turn the minor throb in his head into a major thumper, to see Mandora on the other side. She was dressed in a simple lavender one-piece which hugged her curves fom shoulders to toes. Her blonde hair was done up in her usual ponytail. For the first time, Panthro noticed the top half of her face and the cornflower blue eyes which seemed utterly and uncharacteristically lost. She was a far cry from the tough and confident woman he had come to know. She walked in without preamble, though with none of her former self-assuredness in evidence.

"Am I disturbing you?" she asked. "Sorry, but I got lost."

"Not at all." Panthro would never admit that the physics involved in his studies were kicking his ass at present. She moved litlessly toward a clear spot on the bench before his worktable and sat, or more like fell, down on it. Seres Mandora had been like this ever since having regained consciousness. It was heartbreaking to see her in her current state, but he was at a loss as to what to tell her. The touchy-feely stuff was never Panthro's realm. Silence stretched between them.

"I could use a drink." Those five words, coming from her, were like a splash of icy water. In truth, Panthro could never have imagined her being the sort to imbibe, and he highly doubted she was referring to coffee. Caught up in the suddenly surreal moment, Panthro rose and made his way to the massive toolchest which he had liberated from SkyTomb's engineering bay. In the bottom-most drawer was a steel flask containing several ounces of what locals called both moonshine and white lightning. Panthro tended to call it the latter, for it could hit like a bolt from the blue. It wasn't, he knew, approved psychiatric practice but he understood this much about it; the only difference between a barhand and a shrink was that the former could get his clients sloshed. A drunk man tells a sober man's truth. It was an aphorism he knew to be true. Besides, at the bottom of it all, he knew that sometimes a stiff belt was what one really needed. Psychology be damned. He carefully poured two fingers worth into worn metal cups and handed one to her.

"Careful," he managed just before she downed it. For the first time since arriving, Mandora's body became rather active. She beat her chest as the liquor burned down her throat, finally letting out a strangled cry followed by a deep gasp. "It's got some kick," he finished.

"I noticed!" she shouted on getting her breath back. "What IS that stuff?"

"White lightning. More?"

"Please." Panthro poured another two fingers, noting her flushed face. She took the next cup at a sip, shuddering as he sat across from her. "I should be more careful with this." Mandora fell silent again. Panthro waited, nursing his own drink as slowly as possible. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Never is," he said simply. Oh, shit, what do I do now?! he silently shouted. Here she was, seemingly about to let the dam burst, and he was the one who had to deal with the flood. It was a distraction from a form of physics which defied all the physics he'd ever learned, but this was ENTIRELY out of his element!

"My family was murdered," she said bluntly. Panthro's silence, which was stunned, prodded her to go on. "I was away at a friend's home when it happened. They were killed. My mother and sister were raped, my father forced to watch." Panthro resisted the urge to take a drink, despite his own dark memories of such things. "I was five." Panthro took a sip. "I found the gory details when I joined CONTROL.

"My father was dirty," she went on after another sip. "Tied into the mafia. He'd been skimming money off the top, why I could only guess but he thought they were good reasons. Good enough to risk our lives," she spat. "My sister was only fourteen." Despite the heat from the liquor, Panthro felt a shard of ice stab into his chest. "As a kid bouncing from one home to another, all I knew was that everyone I loved had been taken from me. A recruiter from CONTROL spotted me, and I went right in. Finding out why it had happened, it made me hate crime all the more."

I can understand that, he thought, thinking of good friends long gone. He'd asked himself a thousand times how ANY civilized being could find pleasure in such acts. The answer was as simple as it was repugnant. Some people, regardless of species, were bastards. Bastards who understood only one language, and for whom Standard Operating Procedure should be Seek and Destroy. Panthro reigned his legendary temper in, but barely.

"Lenin took me under his wing." This she said in a slightly wistful tone after another sip. Panthro decided that her second cup would be her last. She needed to remain coherent. "He was the epitome of law enforcement, the man I looked up to the most. He became a second father to me."

"Ouch." It just slipped past his lips, and he made a note not to drink another cup himself. Mandora appeared not to notice, much to his relief.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is for a woman to make it in a man's organization?" she asked. The sexes being by and large equal on Thundera, he didn't. Mandora explained. "Most women go into the secretaries' pool. Put on a pretty face for Miss Pan-Galactic Beauty contest with a skimpy bikini and a shot at a vacation on a resort world." Panthro didn't say that Mandora could have won that easily, especially given how the Thunderian clothes she wore accented her feminine outer charms. "I wanted to fight crime, and I fought tooth and nail to get there." She took another sip. "I forgot how to be a woman." THAT left him stumped, his own cup halting before reaching his mouth. "I swore like a man. I fought like a man. I only wanted to make sure that what happened to MY family might not happen to another."

"I..."

"But, THIS!" she roared. "I got a sniff a year ago. I know how to be careful in CONTROL, how to keep things quiet. I looked up to him, y'know?" she asked after finishing off her cup. To Panthro's gratitude, she didn't ask for another. "How many lives did I help ruin?" she asked. "How many 'Transfers' were really slave runs? It's..." A sob. "All I believed in my whole fucking life was made of BULLSHIT!" The dam broke, and the flood of tears came as the cup clattered on the floor. Panthro moved beside her, cradling her head near his shoulder so she could let it out. Uncomfortable as it was, he'd been there and heard it all before.

Seres Mandora wept, a reaction she'd thought lost, her head against Panthro's shoulder and hot tears of shame and guilt burning out of her eyes. So many years spent fighting her way into criminal investigations, winning the respect of her comrades, bearing the crude jokes about her figure (mostly about her breasts and her rear), all the while holding the ideals of justice (as taught to her from her days as a nugget by Commandant Lenin) as her guiding principle. That, oh yes that, hurt worst of all. More tears came, tears which burned all the hotter for not only the fact that she hadn't shed any in years, but that they came at such a horrible cost. What had she done? She had been, unwittingly, coerced into breaking the laws she had held as The Way Things Should Be, and which she had doggedly, even ruthlessly, enforced. What did that say about her? Seres Mandora's eyes snapped open once Panthro's strong arm encircled her shoulders.

"Let it out," he said in a low voice. "You won't get better until you do." Those words, so simple, set her to bawling again. So, Seres Mandora cried for the first time since her childhood. And was silently grateful that she was able to do so on the shoulder of someone as strong and sure as Panthro.

The sights and smells of the Colony always filled Sho with a sense of pride that, he knew, the others would never understand. He walked toward his favorite food stand (aside from the Bolkin Bar, to which he intended to take Myrlha once the sun went down) in the center of the Central Plaza. Work was already underway on the statue of King Lion-O, whose commission he had reluctantly accepted. Sho was silently grateful that the monument to be in his own honor would be a tapestry. Waking up to a giant stone effigy of himself every morning would have been well past awkward. He passed a pair of women dining at one of the outdoor tables, two he recognized from his adventure on the Vertis. Seeing them adjusting so quicky to life in the Colony bolstered his spirits even more.

He knew he and Myrlha's chances of having a child were slim at best. He had heartily supported her suggestion that she help teach the kittens. It would be good for her, he hoped. It hurt him deeply that their apparent inablility to have a child hurt her as well. Maybe this would ease that somewhat.

"Hey, if it ain't my favortie human!" the boisterous Tyger who ran the stall shouted.

"I'm the only one you know," Sho said, settling into the ritual. "Did you hear about the Simian and the can of juice?" he asked. Swapping jokes had become part of their usual song and dance. "He spent twenty minutes staring at it because 'concentrate' was printed on it." The proprieter, Shiimga, had a tremendous laugh at that.

Avril paused, the garlic bread freezing on its course to her mouth. It. Was. HIM! Shivers started as she recalled him, formerly disguised as a Lion, then turning into what ever the hell that Guyver thing was. Then killing with impunity.

"There ya go! Shiimga said, "One loaf of the usual... Oh, stop it, your money's no good here!"

"Don't give me that," Sho said, part of their dance. "You have a business to run."

"And you have a fine woman." Shimga replied with a wink.

"Who loves your bread."

"And has such good taste! Ah, Myrlha. Such a lovely..."

"I get you," Sho said with a laugh.

"Look at them," Avril said, tearing her bread apart with her fingers.

"Cute, but not my type," Etain said after another chomp of garlic bread. "Wow, this stuff is GREAT!" The transasction concluded, and Sho went on his way with a bag of bread. "You can breathe, now." The tension in the other woman's shoulders didn't disappear until he did. "You don't have to be so frightened of him, dearest."

"I know that," she replied. On asking around concerning their rescuer, Etain had encountered overwhelming positive remarks, as well as a few negative feelings given that he was a human. NOKD: Not Our Kind, Dear. Some even experessed regret that he was spoken for but, given the descriptions of Lady Myrlha, he'd made quite a catch. "My brain does, at least, but... It's his power I'm scared of."

Among the minority who weren't overly fond of the new Vanguard, that had been a primary point. What if they'd been rescued only to be dominated by the very man who'd played such a large part in doing so? Etain thought that view to be wild paranoia. Anyone who'd risk his ass in the depths of space to rescue total strangers who weren't even his species got her stamp of approval.

"Well, this is certainly convenient," Fahd said as he drew up to their table with a plain wrapped parcel in his hands. Avril's eyes locked onto it at once, and any lingering fear was replaced with a furious blush that was equal parts embarrassment at its contents and anticipation of the same. "I thought I'd stop by here on my way to deliver these, and here you are."

"Y-yes..." Avril stammered. "Funny how that works, huh?"

"Oh, Lady Laheela!" he exclaimed as the shapely Tygress stepped toward the table. Avril swallowed with an audible click as they both leapt to their feets and genuflected. Etain barely stifled a chuckle at her lover's embarrassment.

"Used the last of the silk, then?" she asked him with a knowing look that turned Avril's face an alarming shade of crimson.

"Just now, yes. I'm rather proud of these desig..."

"PACKAGENOWTHANKYOUPLEASE!" Avril shouted as she snatched the parcel and held it against her as if it were a shield. Fahd and Laheela both blinked. Etain's grip on the chuckles grew weaker.

"What can we do for you, M'lady?" Etain asked.

"Lord Lion-O bids you to come to Cat's Lair. Please follow me." If it were physically possible, Avril's jaw would have been on the cobblestones beneath their feet. Said piece of her anatomy did make an admirable effort in that direction, with Etain's following suit. "Though," she added, looking over her shoulder at them after turning about, "you might want to leave that with Fahd."

"It'll be waiting for you when you get home, Miss Avril," he said, taking it from her grasp.

"... great thanks..."

It took an effort, but Etain pushed down the giggles before they could explode into gales of laughter.

WilyKat ignored the slight chill in the air as he stood atop one of the trees beyond the edges of the colony, staring out over the newly-built city. Ever since construction had been - for the time being - completed, he had volunteered for every available assignment. The more dangerous it appeared, the better. Danger, however, had been in short supply of late.

He couldn't hide behind being a kitten any longer. He was now a man (what he failed to recognize is that every sixteen every boy thought he was fully a man) and he shared part of the responisbility of safeguarding the colony. Not merely manning the Control Room, or doing menial chores and errands.

The image of Cheetara's beating flared white-hot behind his eyes.

Hanging helpless next to Pumyra as a mostly-headless Sho fought off Ma-Mutt guised as Enzyme. Then most of the Lunattaks. Then Mumm-Ra, to top it all off.

(The third shall rise from the king's own court.)

Those words spoke to him in a way he doubted the others understood.

(The third shall rise from the king's own court.)

Why shouldn't it be him? He told himself over and over how he wanted that power to protect, to defend. Sho, after all, held no real love for Bio-Booster Armor yet he bore its burden.

Burden? he thought. Try BLESSING!

With that kind of power at his command, he would never be helpless again. For the good of all, of course.

It was understood, even expected, that people summoned before their king all of a sudden would have a case of nerves. The Puma, Avril, had the shakes badly enough to make Lion-O feel concerned. They rose from their kneeling position at his insistence (which sounded better in his mind than command ever would) and he flashed his most reassuring smile.

"Thank you for coming," he said, a minor breach of protocol. Kings weren't expected to show gratitude to their subjects, but he wasn't an ordinary monarch.

"We serve Thundera," they replied in unison.

"My Council Head, Tygra, has begun a program to educate the youths of the colony and I understand you have some teaching experience, Miss Avril." From the way she jumped at that, he could have sworn she'd just been goosed.

"I... I have some small experience, but... I was just an assistant, Highness."

"Which makes you better suited to teaching our youths how to read and write than, say, a plumber." Even Lion-O thought laughing at ones own small jokes to be in bad taste, but he noticed the smirk Etain quickly squashed.

"As y-you com-command..."

"This isn't a command," he said, hiding his irritation with improving skill. A year in, and still he chafed at the thought of what he came to call "the bow-n-scrape treatment". The hell of it was that he couldn't command them to act normally around him. The other ThunderCats, yes, but not civillians. Etain's quick smirk, though, made him smile inwardly. "I want you to accept this willingly. Besides, it won't be just the two of you."

"Beg pardon, two of us?" Etain asked.

"I'm told you two are very close." Lion-O didn't understand the ins and outs, so to speak, of being attracted to one's own sex and didn't care one way or the other. "Lady Myrlha will also be rendering assistance, as well as other ThunderCats on a part-time basis. Myrlha, though, will work with you full time." He saw both blanch slightly at that, but the reason he deduced hadn't been entirely correct. "While she works with you, I want you to treat her as any other person. You're the teacher, Avril, you're in charge of the school." That she wouldn't wear her insignia when working was a foregone conclusion. As well as them both accepting, which both did.

Watershed's streets still bustled with commerce, yet the crowds had thinned considerably as summer had given way to fall then into the edges of winter. Many of the stalls were shut down, their tenders having made the treks back to their own towns of residence.

Lisker sat in what had become his favorite chair, over-stuffed just right, before the merrily burning fire in the hearth. A bottle of Benjamin's wonder-beer sat on the table to his right, unopened as he sat lost in thought.

Grune or Gelroz? he asked himself. Both were men who could best serve Third Earth by leaving it. But, who took priority? Gelroz, he knew how to find. Mezzo, during his brief and informative stay in Watershed, had been as honest as Abraham Lincoln himself. Lying effectively required intelligence, and Mezzo had struck him as someone who would have sat on the TV and watched the couch. The Tabbott also had a core of people he kept as his personal servants. Potential hostages all around, there. Grune, while having a larger force, would end up facing Guyver One should he try to take that colony. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. What was Grune's ultimate aim? He was jarred from his train of thought when Maria leapt up and sat on the chair's left arm.

"Dinner's almost ready," she said.

"You just said tha magic woid, doll-face," he said. Maria's smile crinkled her nose as that crack always did though she'd never seen a gangster movie or heard of Humphrey Bogart, which he did a fairly poor impression of. Natalie had adjusted well to life in Watershed, much to the relief of both. She still missed her home in the Wood, true, but Verona had made no noise over Natlie's continued stay. In fact, no noise at all. So long as she reigned, relations between the two groups would be tense, but not overly so. Stalemates tended to do that.

It would have to be Gelroz, he decided, and soon. Winter would slow Grune down considerably, which worked in Lisker's favor. A small part of him insisted that it would be murder, and asked what right he had to play judge, jury, and executioner.

"Sometimes there's justice, sometimes there's just us," he muttered.

"You're going after that Gelroz, aren't you?" There was no accusation in her voice, merely love and understanding.

"I have to."

"I know. All those people he's hurt." And those he would, sooner or later. Maria didn't ask how he meant to go about it. She already knew, and had accepted that sometimes, there was no other way. She kissed him tenderly, wishing for all that she was worth that he didn't have to fight but knowing he would.

They stood before him, the survivors of the raid, quaking in outrage and fear. At Grune's feet lay the corpses of several of this nameless hamlet's braver souls. Some were shredded by the rounds fired by over-eager members of his force, others at his own hands. On his orders, men were raiding houses, stockpiling food and sundries they'd need for the winter. It was the fourth such raid in days.

"You'll leave us to die!" an elderly man, likely the village leader, cried in a reed-thin voice.

"Oh, no, I'm not that cruel," he said with his trademark sneer and a wave of his cybernetic arm. No smoke marred the sky this time, there had been no need for grenades. He turned to the men which stood as his retainers. "Separate the women." The lustful glint in each pair of eyes fazed him not a bit.

"YOU FILTHY ANIMALS!" the old man roared. Grune slowly came about to face him, and saw that the human had just reached the limits of his courage. He leveled his prosthetic arm in the old man's direction, palm out. The lance of light speared through his skull, leaving a smoldering hole before felling him. Smoke wafted lazily upward from the fatal wound.

"Any questions?" he asked in a jaunty voice. Only frightened whimpers reached him. Good. "Men, you have your orders." While the Clutch members who'd accompanied him gathered the surviving villagers and supplies, Grune left the scene of carnage.

It felt good to be in command of an armed force again, he had to admit to himself, even if its armaments weren't up to what he'd had with the Mutant Army. Ratar-O's orders, though, were simple. Draw the attention of the ThunderCats. Away from what? he asked himself. Grune filed it away for later consideration. Once he found what he sought, he'd do more than draw their attention. Then, he would no longer have to take orders from that oily shit bag.

The captives and supplies gathered and loaded, his men were ready to return to their stronghold. Finding it had been a blessing, and from it he would extend his reach to all corners of this pathetic planet.

The scent of food set Sho's empty stomach to rumbling as he and Myrlha entered the Bolkin Bar. Soft music caressed his ears, more sound files recovered from the data kept secure in the redoubt beneath the Tuska camp, and its purpose was obvious. The restaurant was fast becoming a meeting place for lovers and singles hoping to get lucky. To his surprise, a few Wollos were seated at the bar. A mix of men and women, they looked awkwardly about as they nursed drinks. Sho suppressed a laugh as he and Myrlha stepped toward the stairs to the upper deck. From what he remembered of his one and only dive into Lisker's mind, Wollos didn't date outside their own species. With one exception, though.

"Well," Purrsia said as she set the complimentary tray of breadsticks between them on the table and lit the candle. In a bottle, even. "Not every day a superhero brings his lady love into our humble establishment." The grin in her voice was matched by the one on her face. "Drinks are on me tonight, but if Felina brings out the plates the food's on you."

"Two of the House Special," Myrlha replied.

"One of these days, Bundan's gonna have to gun up a waiver concerning people's livers over that," she chuckled. "Drinks'll be up in a sec." Her bold, brassy demeanor dimmed somewhat. "Vanguard..."

"Sho, please."

"Sho, then." Purrsia smiled at that. "I'm glad you came here. I wanted to thank you."

"You're more than welcome," he replied with a smile, his signature blush, and an extended hand. Purrsia took it and shook firmly.

"Just as modest as I've heard. Seriously, drinks're on me."

"I..."

"Say, 'Yes, Miz Purrsia'," Myrlha said.

"Yes, Miz Purrsia."

"Wow. You really got HIM trained!" The brass was back in her voice and demeanor.

"I have my little ways," Myrlha said with a toss of her chestnut tresses and a conspiratorial wink. Purrsia took her leave, the soft glow of the candle casting a cozy isolation about their table. Sho relaxed, taking in the sight of her. She'd made a man of him in more ways than one since their relationship had started. "Sho-kun," she sang softly, reaching for a breadstick. It neared her mouth, and he found himself rather distracted for a few moments.

"Wow." She was, to be brutally honest, incredible with that part of her anatomy. He was suddenly glad to be sitting down.

"Kinda weird, this being our first actual date and all," she said. Purrsia arrived with their drinks. Both ordered the roasted meatfruit with onion soup.

"Well, things have been really crazy since we got together."

"That's the way it goes for ThunderCats. Always on call. Seems to be the case for Vanguards, too."

"Tonight, it's just us." Sho reached across the table, Myrlha's hand joining his. "I wrangled an entire day off for us next week."

"Oh?"

"Remember that time I took a fly-over above the southern areas?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"I found something. I like to call it 'Our Spot'."

"I love it already. What's it like?"

"Ever been in a natural hot spring?"

"No. Oh!" Her eyes widened as the realization dawned on her.

"You got it. It's just the right temperature, and in a hollow rock formation. Don't ask me how a hollow cone of rock burst up from the earth, but it's there. Picnic lunch?"

"I might not be much of a cook, but I can make a mean sandwich." The meal arrived, and both fell silent while eating. It was a holdover from their days of building the colony, especially after the unwelcome visit from Safari Joe. Sho fingered the small item in the liner pocket of his cloak. Should I do it now? he wondered, or wait?

Myrlha noticed the slight unease on his face at once. "What is it?"

"I have something for you, and I want to give it to you now."

"Sho no hentai," she said. Pervert.

"Not THAT!" he exlclaimed in a whisper.

"Oh? Am I losing my womanly charms?" she teased, batting her eyelashes comically.

"Not hardly." Then, in Japanese, "Watashi wa anata o aishi, Myrlha-chan" (I love you, Myrlha-chan) "Anata wa watashi to kekkon shimasu ka?" (Will you marry me?)

Myrlha nearly stopped breathing at Sho's words, her heart beating in the vicinity of her throat. He had said it. The M-Word. Marriage. Despite her love for him, she still hesitated. Her mother had always said "Marry in haste, repent at leisure."

She could not have his child. Not now, at any rate, and the resarch which might make it possible would pay off YEARS too late. Even if his lifespan hadn't been abnormally extended by the Guyver, hers had not.

But, still...

They lived in the here and now. She had always wanted a family with a man she loved, and she loved no man more fiercely than she did Sho. She wanted to, oh yes, she did. But, would it be wise? Children... There were options, and who knew? Pumyra might be wrong.

Myrlha searched her heart, then, her feelings. Yes, she loved him. Yes, she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Even if he couldn't spend the rest of his with her. There was just no way on that score. So, the choice was clear. Start putting distance between them and make both of them overall miserable, or take a chance and live? One thing was clear: to do nothing would erode what they had, and fast.

Live in the moment, or be a coward.

The choice was obvious.

"Hai," she said. ("Yes") Sho smiled, his face radiant.

"You know..."

"I know, and I don't care. A life with the man I love, or a life wondering what might have been. I spent too long as a slave wondering what might have been if Thundera had never been destroyed, what if I'd never been picked up and enslaved. No more. I want to be your wife, Sho. No matter what that might bring."

"Y'know," he said, his unease melting away, "it's not many guys who make a marriage proposal on the first date and get a yes."

"It's not many guys who win the heart of a woman from another species," Myrlha retorted. "Now, if we're done here, I'd like to go home. And take a shower. Preferably with a certain human as company."

"Your wish," Sho said, leaving the money for the meal with a tip, "is my command."

Lion-O sat on the enormous bed he and Cheetara shared. It was easily large enough for four people, and soft to the point of being an extravagance. She sat before him on the stool which usually rested before her rarely-used vanity. She was a warrior, true, but the rare use of cosmetics stemmed from another source. She was too beautiful to really need it. Worry gnawed at him when she placed her hands in his.

"Lion-O," she said.

"Yes."

"You know I love you. More than any man in the world."

"I know." Oh, Jaga, what could this be? he thought. The melodrama of that escaped him.

"Something's happened."

"What is it?" Oh no, oh no!

"I'm pregnant."

"Oh, I'm... Wait, what?!" Lion-O leaned back on his arms, slackjawed. Cheetara's face broke into a brilliant smile. Though he could not know it, he was imitating Bengali's reaction to the same news from Pumyra to a T.

"You. Me. Cub. Diapers." she said, relishing in his reaction. Even more so when his powerful arms embraced her.

"You forgot Snarf in that short list," he said, his mouth near her ear.

"Well, he is the royal babysitter."

"So were you, as I recall."

"It's so strange," she said as they pulled apart and looked each other in the eye. "I changed your diapers, and I'm having your cub."

"You won't hear ME complain." Lion-O traced his fingers up her spine, a move he knew would excite her.

"Careful, there," she admonished. "We can't do much of that now, can we?"

"How far along?"

"A month. This DOES step up the wedding plans some." Wether or not her child could claim the throne was secondary. She was about to give life to Lion-O's child. Her own child. That, in one brilliant moment, was beyond any concerns about succession. She was with cub. HIS cub. Right then, nothing else in the world mattered.

"I was hoping to ASK for your hand in marriage first," he said, his hands carressing her back.

"Well, consider me asked, and consider my response 'yes'." she said around a giggle. Their weight shifted suddenly, her on the bed with his face over her midsection.

"Remember that night on my throne?"

"Of course." It was when Sho had returned from that nightmare future.

"Good. Because I've been meaning to give as good as I'd gotten." Cheetara's back arched as his lips made contact.

"What's up, Teach?" Etain said as she set the music player their apartment had been equipped with to "Jazz". She had gained an appreciation for the sounds of the saxophone, an instrument whose sound had never existed on Thundera. She heard Avril rummaging in the fridge as she shrugged out of her clothes. Of the two pairs of undergarments in the package, one had been sized for her. Fahd had one hell of an eye for detail. She slid on the silk garments, shivering as she did so.

"Myrlha. Sho's own LOVER!" she cried as she put together the meal she'd nuke in the microwave.

"So?" Etain stepped into the kitchen. Avril's back was to her. The latter turned around, and her eyes nearly left their sockets. "ETAIN?!"

"What?" she said, lounging against the doorframe. The bra's cups came just up to her nipples, the panties sheer enough to drive anyone to a fit. "Yours are still in the box." A bottle of wine, which Etain had purchased, sat in ice on the table.

"I... I can't..."

"Yes, you can. Live, girl. We can do that, now." Avril trudged into the foyer as if walking to her execution. Etain knew better. She stepped to microwave above the stove and pulled free the takeout from the Bolkin Bar within. Whatever Meatfruit Stir-Fry was, they'd both fallen in love with it.

"Is this better?"

Etain nearly spilled wine on the table at the sight of her. The sheer red brassier lifted her breasts in a fetching manner, while the cup of the panties covered only her privates, the strands linking the front to the back thin as gossamer yet still visible. Fahd, she thought, was a master of his craft.

"I'll take that as a yes," Avril said with a wink. In their home, she could be rather playful.

"I love you so much," Etain said.


End file.
